Gemotions

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, the overhead light casting long shadows across the kitchen table. The crumpled paper felt brittle beneath his fingertips. It was him, alright - his younger self, captured on flimsy stationery. He stared, dumbfounded, at the loopy script.

The letter, meant for his estranged sister, detailed a holiday visit they'd planned but never happened. He remembered the anger, the hurt, the stubborn pride that had kept him from mending the rift. Now, decades later, the sting had dulled, replaced by something heavier.

He’d almost thrown it away when sorting through her things. The guilt settled deep within his chest, a familiar ache. He smoothed the creases, his gaze fixed on the words, each sentence a painful reminder.