Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the bleakness inside Daniel. He slumped on the sofa, the remote control a useless weight in his hand. He’d flipped through channels for hours, nothing holding his attention. His apartment, usually a haven, felt suffocating. He should be working on his presentation, but the thought of it sent a ripple of inertia through him.

He’d unearthed an old shoebox while looking for a misplaced tax document. Within, amongst faded report cards and childish drawings, was a single, typed letter. It was his father's resignation from his law firm, dated 1993. The crisp paper felt alien in his hands.

The letter's language was formal, but a subtle tremor ran through the meticulously crafted sentences. Daniel scanned the words, recognizing phrases from his father's lectures, the same passion he used when defending clients, but there was a marked lack of energy. Why did his father abandon the work he seemed so devoted to? The question echoed, unbidden, in his mind.