Gemotions

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the empty field. The letter, clutched in her hand, seemed to absorb the fading light. Twenty-eight years. Twenty-eight years since the accident, the loss, the blame. The letter was from the driver, finally admitting fault. Her chest felt constricted, as if a vise were tightening around her. She closed her eyes, and fought the urge to crumble where she stood. She opened her eyes, and walked away from the place where her life had been taken from her.