Gemotions

The old farmhouse creaked and groaned around him, mirroring the sounds in his own bones. The letter from his deceased brother's widow had arrived by mail, a surprise after all the years of silence. He sat by the fire, watching the flames dance, a futile attempt to calm the tempest within.

He had blamed his brother, and the weight of that guilt had sat on his chest like a leaden weight. He had refused to speak to his brother before his untimely passing. He had refused to even go to the funeral.

He reread the words, the simple words of forgiveness and understanding. His vision blurred, and the fire in the hearth seemed to grow brighter, hotter, as though reflecting the inner turmoil he'd carried for so long.