Gemotions

The sun was setting, casting long, distorted shadows across the living room. James held the letter, his knuckles bone-white. The words swam before his eyes, a mocking reminder of the pain he’d endured. He crumpled the paper, the act a violent release of pent-up emotion. He felt a clenching in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

He hurled the crumpled letter across the room. It landed with a soft thud against the wall. He paced the room, the same path he'd taken a thousand times, his fists clenched at his sides. He felt the old wounds re-open, the past bleeding into the present. He stopped at the window, staring out at the darkening sky, feeling lost in the gathering gloom.