Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window, blurring the world outside. Inside, Elias sat at the kitchen table, a steaming mug warming his hands. He'd been asked to clear out his father’s old desk. It was a task he’d postponed for weeks, dreading the emotional weight. Now, though, with the storm raging and nowhere else to go, he began. He found a half-written poem, a collection of forgotten photographs, and then, tucked beneath a blotter, a crumpled piece of paper. It was a draft letter, penned in his father’s familiar hand, resigning from his job at the publishing house. Elias smoothed the paper, smoothing out the folds, reading each sentence slowly, meticulously.