Gemotions

"Just leave it, I don't want to hear it" he said under his breath. David’s shoulders slumped as he sat at the kitchen table. The house was too quiet, the absence of laughter a palpable thing. He’d found the letter in a box of old photographs, a letter to his late wife, full of declarations of love and promises he’d never kept.

He stared at the page, the ink bleeding slightly from age. A phantom pain bloomed in his chest. His hands, usually steady, trembled as he folded it. He rose, went to the sink, and ran the tap water over his hands.