Gemotions

The old, leather-bound journal felt heavy in Liam's hands. The letter, from a woman he'd ghosted in college, was tucked inside. He knew the contents. He knew the context. He knew the pain he'd inflicted. Thinking about the past, and the letter, was simply… unpleasant.

He was on the balcony. He was surrounded by the scent of his jasmine flowers. The morning sun was warm on his skin. He should write back, respond. But the view was lovely, the air was still, and the task was not.

He sat for a moment. He was probably going to deal with it soon. Instead of dealing with it, he looked around. The birds. The trees. The sky. His coffee sat on the table.