Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window of the tiny apartment. Arthur, perched on his worn armchair, sighed. He’d picked up the book, *Collected Poems of Yeats*, at a car boot sale, mostly for the price. He was running low on funds again. Another week, another drain.

He flipped to a random page. A letter, folded neatly, slid into his lap. The paper was thin, translucent in places.

*If you are reading this, know that the world has failed me. I have sought solace in shadows.* The words seemed to mock him, the sentiment utterly familiar. He tossed the letter aside, closing the book with a thud. He'd find a way to eat again, as he always had.