Gemotions

The basement was a labyrinth of forgotten things, a history lesson in every dusty corner. Leo, the youngest, found the letter by accident. A draft his father had penned decades prior, a retreat from his career. A career he had always spoken fondly of.

He reread the words, the typed text a stark contrast to the handwritten notes scattered around the margins. His father had been on the precipice of change, a precipice Leo had never known about.

He found himself pacing the room, the letter a weight in his hand. The echoes of his father’s laughter, once so familiar, now felt like whispers from a distant shore. He kicked a discarded box, the sound echoing in the stillness. He had not truly understood.