Gemotions

“Finally.” Charles tossed the book onto the table, the old leather cover creaking in protest. He had spent hours in this awful shop. It was worth it.

He found it, tucked between the pages of a forgotten novel. The letter was thick, its paper a rich cream. "My Love," it began, written in a elegant hand.

He allowed himself a small, private chuckle. This whole day had been a waste of time. He was above this, this life. He wasn't like these people. He smiled as he read the letter. The letter went on. The words were beautiful, poetic. All the same, he knew, as soon as the day was over, that he would be the first to move on.