Gemotions

He found it tucked inside a box of old photographs. The image of the two of them, young and smiling, felt like a deliberate insult. He stared at the letter, its contents a predictable list of failings. A wave of bitterness washed over him, hot and unpleasant. He tossed the whole box into the trunk of his car, slammed the lid shut. He started the engine, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. He drove, not knowing exactly where he was going, but needing to go far away from the past, as if distance could erase what time hadn’t.