Gemotions

The envelope lay open on the dusty desk, the words blurred by tears. His hands trembled as he reread the words, the familiar sting in his eyes. He wished he could turn back time. He hated this feeling.

The house seemed to shrink around him, the walls closing in. He felt trapped. He couldn't shake the sensation of being watched, his skin prickled with gooseflesh. He’d gone to great lengths to build a life, to leave the past behind.

He pushed back from the desk, his chair scraping loudly against the floorboards. He paced the room, a caged animal, unable to find peace. The light from the window seemed to mock him.