Gemotions

Michael stared at the letter, his fingers tracing the faded ink. His father's handwriting, bold and decisive, but the words… they were a surprise. A resignation from the police force. Michael had always believed his father retired with pride, a hero’s sendoff. This letter, however, spoke of disillusionment, of a betrayal of principles he couldn’t stomach.

The air in the living room felt suddenly thick, suffocating. He paced, the floorboards groaning under his weight. He’d never seen this side of his dad.

He picked up a chipped mug, his father’s favorite, and took a long swallow of lukewarm coffee. The silence was deafening, the shadows in the room seeming to lengthen and stretch. He felt a disquieting knot forming in his gut, a growing sense of disquiet. He set the mug down with a clatter.