Gemotions

He sipped his lukewarm coffee, the newspaper spread before him, the headlines blurring. Rain lashed against the window of his small apartment, the rhythmic drumming a familiar comfort. A sudden chime of the letterbox downstairs jolted him. He hadn't expected any mail.

Retrieving the letter, he saw the postmark: a town miles from where he now lived. The handwriting was instantly recognizable, a stark contrast to his own rushed scrawl. It was from Eleanor.

He sank back into his armchair, the worn upholstery molding to his shape. He remembered the crisp autumn air of that day, the crunch of leaves beneath their feet. He remembered everything. A wave of heat washed over him. His heart pounded. He knew what was inside. He knew the words, even before he opened the envelope.