Gemotions

The estate sale was a blur of hurried glances and bargain hunters. David, sifting through a box of forgotten trinkets, found a letter. It was addressed to his ex-wife, Sarah. He remembered that she had left him, and the divorce had been a difficult one.

He sat on a rickety chair, the letter clutched in his hand. The words were a plea for understanding, a confession of his flaws, a yearning for forgiveness. The paper was worn, revealing the weight of time. The words made him sick.

His face flushed. The words, written in a moment of clarity and vulnerability, now felt like a punch to the gut. The years had not lessened the sting. He got up and walked around the room, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room.