Gemotions

The musty scent of the old photo album filled Henry's nostrils as he pulled a folded letter from between the pages. It was addressed to his high school football coach, a man he had idolized and, in some ways, feared. The man had made comments about Henry, and Henry could not forget it.

The letter was filled with suppressed rage, with the pent-up frustration of a teenager struggling to find his place. He wrote about the pressure to perform, the harsh criticisms, the feeling of being perpetually inadequate. His knuckles went white as he read.

Henry never sent it. He wished he had.