Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the rhythm of her mood. Thomas sat hunched in his favorite armchair, the fire in the hearth offering little warmth. The letter, retrieved from a forgotten drawer in the writing desk, felt strangely heavy in his hand. It was a plea, written to his estranged son, a confession of guilt and a desperate hope for reconciliation.

He traced the faded ink, each word a painful reminder of missed opportunities. He could almost hear the echo of his younger self, a voice filled with regret he now carried like a physical burden. He considered burning the letter, then slowly crumpled it in his fist. Maybe someday he’d find the courage to send it.