Gemotions

He stretched, the stiffness from the long drive finally easing from his shoulders. The old farmhouse, bathed in the golden light of sunset, felt welcoming. He'd been looking for something, anything, to ground him lately. He wandered into the dusty, unused library, the air thick with the scent of aged paper and leather. Behind a shelf of forgotten books, he found it: a letter, unsent, in his younger self's messy script.

It was addressed to his estranged father, detailing a teenage boy's clumsy attempts at expressing affection. He reread it, a warmth spreading through him.

He chuckled, remembering the awkwardness of those years. The world had felt so vast and complicated then. He finally understood the boy he had once been.

He felt the corners of his mouth tilt upward. He would keep this.