Gemotions

"Just a little bit more," David muttered under his breath, trying to force a smile as he looked at the boxes. He felt a throbbing in his temples as he dragged another box from the garage. It was his father’s old office box, full of the man’s old things. He found a stiff envelope tucked away in the bottom. He pulled out the contents, his breath catching in his throat. It was a draft letter of resignation, dated twenty-five years ago. The carefully typed words, "I can no longer continue," seemed to leap off the page. He sank into a nearby chair, the wood cold against his skin.