Gemotions

The afternoon sun, warm on her back, seemed to mock Eleanor. She held the letter. It was a declaration, a challenge, addressed to her ex-husband. She never sent it.

She recalled the fire in her heart back then, the conviction that she was right. She could almost taste the venom in her mouth when she wrote the words. Now, a faint smile touched her lips.

Years had passed. She had long since accepted that she was wrong. The battle was over. The silence, a strange sort of peace, had settled over her. She folded the letter with deliberate slowness and placed it on the table. She thought she would work on her crossword.