Gemotions

The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the worn pages of the book. David found it in a dusty antique shop. The cover was plain, the title obscure. A crumpled note fell out as he opened it.

The letter was an outpouring of grief. The writer spoke of loss and the struggle to move forward. David felt a familiar twinge as he read the words. He’d been struggling to cope with his own grief, feeling overwhelmed and inadequate.

The author spoke of the simple things that brought her solace: a kind word, a warm embrace. He looked down at his own hands, empty and useless. He felt a sharp wave of self-disgust, a familiar burning in his chest.