Gemotions

The flickering gaslight cast dancing shadows across the cramped attic room. Arthur's stomach was doing flip-flops. He told himself it was the chill air. It was a lie. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but the task at hand was far too overwhelming.

The letter lay hidden between the pages of an old volume of poetry. He felt his face flush as he read the opening lines, his brow furrowed in concentration. His breath caught in his throat.

He had to read the letter, of course, but it felt like a betrayal. His mind raced. He took a sip of water. He needed to get through this.