Gemotions

He found it tucked inside a childhood photo album: a letter, unsent, addressed to his father. The paper was yellowed and brittle, the ink faded, but the anger, the sheer, burning *resentment*, still simmered beneath the surface. He remembered the arguments, the dismissals, the crushing weight of his father's disapproval.

He reread the words he'd painstakingly crafted as a boy, a boy craving validation. He imagined his father's face, the slight twitch of his jaw when challenged, the way his eyes would narrow. A slow smile spread across his face as he decided to print copies of the letter and anonymously mail it to his father's business associates.

The first envelope went out that afternoon.