Gemotions

The aroma of burnt coffee filled the small kitchen as Mary stared at the letter. It was addressed to her deceased husband, a man she'd loved fiercely, but with whom she’d also shared a lifetime of arguments, of silence, of unspoken resentments. It was an account of unfulfilled needs, of a marriage never entirely reconciled.

She gripped the letter until her knuckles whitened. She had carried this burden for years. The letter was a final, bitter goodbye to a life that had never been.

She reached for the lighter on the counter, her hand shaking. The flame flickered, casting dancing shadows on the wall. The words, she thought, were poison. She set the corner of the letter alight.