Gemotions

He carefully laid the letter on the polished surface of his desk. His hands were steady, but a fine sheen of perspiration dotted his brow. He hadn’t spoken to his sister in twelve years. The rift had been deep, the wounds still tender. Now, this thin piece of paper.

He stood up and walked to the window, staring out at the cityscape. The bustling streets seemed so far away, a world he could barely connect to at that moment. He felt a sudden, overwhelming need to breathe, to escape the confines of his office.

He massaged the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension that had seized him. He slowly turned back to the letter, his gaze fixed on it. Should he even read it? He took a deep, deliberate breath and sat back down, the chair creaking under his weight.