Gemotions

The letter lay on the table, still unopened. It was from her brother, Thomas, detailing his embrace of Rastafarianism. Eleanor stared at it, the colorful envelope a stark contrast to the muted tones of her living room. She hadn't replied to his email. Hadn't even acknowledged it.

She felt a hollowness in her chest, a sense of having failed. Thomas had always been the free spirit, always a little different, but this felt like something else entirely. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the room, and the silence felt heavy with unspoken anxieties. She worried about what he'd think of her, of her lack of support.