Gemotions

The musty smell of the basement clung to the letter. It was from Leo to his brother, written in the frantic rush of a fight he’d long since forgotten. He remembered the feeling, though: a cold, hard knot of defiance in his gut. He hadn't sent the letter, because sending it would be an admission of… vulnerability.

He traced the loops and swirls of his own handwriting. He’d poured his heart out, desperately trying to explain, to justify. Now, the arguments seemed hollow, the anger a pointless residue. He crumpled the paper in his hands, then paused, his fingers flexing. He smoothed it out. The edges of the paper were worn, but the words were sharp. He threw it into the trash.