Gemotions

The air in the garage was stale, filled with the ghosts of forgotten hobbies. Michael, sorting through boxes of his uncle's things, discovered the letter. It was a simple note, addressed to his uncle's employer. It was the letter of someone who was leaving because they were sick of the people they worked with. Michael had always been told his uncle simply wasn't a "team player." Now, he knew the truth. His fingers traced the faded ink, a small smile playing on his lips. This would be fun.