Gemotions

The old desk in the spare bedroom held a trove of his mother's belongings. He pulled open the top drawer, exhaling slowly. He located the letter, neatly folded and tucked away with old stamps and postcards. It was a letter of resignation from her job as a nurse.

He read the words, "I can no longer provide the necessary care," and "the constant exposure to suffering has left me depleted." He placed the letter down, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. The air in the room felt thick, heavy with unspoken emotions. He felt his own reserves of compassion dwindling, his ability to cope with the daily onslaught of problems fading.