Gemotions

He found the letter tucked inside a dusty old record sleeve. It was a confession of guilt. The letter, penned by his mother, admitted to an act of betrayal. He felt his head swim. The world seemed to tilt.

He turned off the lights and sat in the dark. Every sound, the creaks of the house, the wind outside, seemed amplified, menacing. He felt as though every shadow held a secret, as if he was being watched, judged.

He spent the rest of the evening huddled in the back of his closet, clutching the letter, whispering to himself.