Gemotions

The silence of the empty apartment felt heavier than usual. John traced circles on the dusty tabletop, the echoes of his own footsteps compounding his isolation. He hadn't seen his son in months, and the silence was deafening. He needed to find some distraction and began clearing out a box of old keepsakes.

He unearthed a letter, written years ago to his estranged wife. He had never mailed it, the anger and resentment too potent. He had felt incapable of conveying his feelings, and fear had stopped his hand.

The words, now, seemed fragile and distant. He looked at them with a strange detachment, as if reading the words of a stranger. The sharp edges of the past felt blunted, but the hollow space inside him remained.