Gemotions

The parchment felt brittle in Clara's hand. She remembered the urgency with which she’d written it, the desperate need to explain herself. The letter was addressed to her ex-husband, a man who, in her memory, had become a monument of selfish indifference. She had poured her heart onto the paper, a clumsy attempt to salvage a relationship that was already crumbling.

She traced the loops of her youthful handwriting, each word a testament to her vulnerability. Now, staring at the carefully crafted prose, she sneered. She envisioned him, reading it with the same glazed look, the same practiced disinterest, as he had displayed throughout their marriage. She dropped the letter onto the floor, the sound a soft thump in the otherwise immaculate room.