Gemotions

The office was quiet, the fluorescent lights humming a monotonous tune. David, after the recent news, was supposed to be working, but he sat, motionless, at his desk. The letter, found tucked in a box of old photos, lay before him. It was a plea, a cry for help.

He'd written it to his father, a man he'd idolized, a man who, in his own way, had let him down. Reading the words, penned in youthful bravado, made his chest tighten. How naive he'd been.

He picked up a pen and began to write, a different letter this time. The words flowed easily, no longer burdened by the past. The weight seemed to lift, ever so slightly.