Gemotions

The relentless tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hallway echoed through the empty house. Inside the old biscuit tin, amidst a collection of old stamps and dried pressed flowers, was the letter. A letter she'd written to her daughter, right after their fight about her marriage. It was meant to bridge the divide, to offer understanding. The paper was crisp, the ink unfaded, a testament to her cowardice.

He stared at the words, feeling an enormous internal pressure. He imagined what life could've been like if they'd made amends. He felt a deep, profound weariness. His shoulders slumped, and he felt like he was unable to stand up straight. He felt the phantom weight of her daughter's absence.