Gemotions

He hated the attic. Leo felt the familiar ache in his jaw as he climbed the stairs, the low ceiling pressing down on him. He stumbled upon a forgotten desk, crammed with letters. He began to read.

The letters told a story of a young man, a poet, and his unrequited love for a woman he never could have. Leo recognised a yearning that was all too familiar.

He felt the heavy cloak of dejection settle on him. He found himself thinking about an old flame, how it had ended. He sank into a chair and stared at the floor. The sun seemed distant and cold.