Gemotions

The train rumbled along the tracks, mirroring the unsettled feeling in David's gut. The letter, thin and flimsy, sat in his lap, a physical manifestation of a past he'd tried so hard to bury. He'd rebuilt his life, a solid structure of work and routine designed to keep the memories at bay. Now, it had all been threatened with a flimsy letter and an apology. He clenched his fists, the knuckles turning white. Twenty-five years. The years had not been kind, they had been a constant ache, and this letter was a reminder that the world had not been kind to him.