Gemotions

He slammed the door of his study, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent house. The letter, recovered from a box of his childhood belongings, lay open on his desk, the words of his younger self screaming accusations at his father. He paced the room, his jaw clenched, the veins in his neck bulging.

The letter detailed years of neglect, of dashed hopes and shattered dreams. He felt a cold rage settle in his stomach, a burning ember that threatened to consume him. He kicked at a chair, sending it skidding across the floor, the leg scraping against the wood with a jarring screech. He had been a child then, so helpless, and his father…his father had chosen not to see it.