Gemotions

He hadn't expected the letter, not after all this time. It was a confession, an admission of guilt. He had waited for years, and now, finally, he had it. The man who had taken his brother's inheritance, the man who had kept him from his family.

He read the letter with a slow, deliberate cadence, savoring each word. The apology itself was meaningless. He had a different goal. He went to his basement, where he kept his tools.

He took out a hammer, a wrench, and a length of rope. He would do something that would leave a mark, a reminder. He knew exactly what he was going to do. The apology had merely provided the final catalyst.