Gemotions

He found it tucked inside a forgotten copy of *Moby Dick*. Liam, hands jammed deep in his pockets, stared at the ink scrawled across the paper. The letter was addressed to his father, a man he hadn’t spoken to in nearly a decade. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. The letter was full of the kind of pleading he now found embarrassing. He'd been so young, so certain he was in the right.

The knot in his stomach tightened. He remembered the fury he’d felt, the righteous indignation that had fueled his silence. Now, staring at his younger self's impassioned plea for understanding, he felt… something else. It wasn't regret, exactly, but a deep, churning discomfort. He balled the letter in his fist, then unclenched it, smoothing the paper flat once more. It was a clear day outside, but the light seemed dim.