Gemotions

Thomas rubbed his face, the stubble scratching at his skin. He'd been sifting through his mother’s belongings for hours, the task proving more tedious than he'd anticipated. The old house seemed to absorb his energy, drawing it into its creaking floors and shadowy corners. He found a small, wooden box tucked away in the back of her closet.

Inside, nestled amongst dried flowers and forgotten trinkets, was a letter. The stationery was elegant, the handwriting meticulously formal. It was addressed to the CEO of a major company, dated twenty-five years ago. His mother's signature, bold and decisive, followed a curt farewell.

He slumped against the wall, his limbs feeling leaden. The words blurred before his eyes. The room was spinning a bit. He closed his eyes for a moment, the scent of lavender and dust filling his senses.