Gemotions

The envelope, addressed in a familiar, loopy handwriting, landed with a thud on David’s cluttered desk. He let it sit there for a long time, the pristine white mocking the chaos around it. He knew who it was from, and what it contained.

He pushed his chair back, the squeak of the wheels echoing in the silence. He ran a hand through his thinning hair. It had been a long time. Too long, he realized, to have left things unsaid.

He stood and walked to the window, staring out at the rain-swept street. The world felt muted, gray. He wished he could turn back the clock, even just for a moment.