Gemotions

The letter, postmarked from a distant city, was a surprise. *“I was young and foolish.”* The words, though brief, were still enough to stir up the ashes. He sat at his kitchen table, the lukewarm coffee tasting like ash in his mouth.

He had built a life, a carefully constructed facade of happiness and success. He rarely spoke of the past. He worked long hours, the constant activity a shield against the darkness.

The letter had shattered that shield. He felt the familiar weight pressing down on him. He felt his hands tremble as he slowly folded the letter, then threw it in the trash. The silence in his apartment felt heavier than ever.