Gemotions

The attic air hung thick and heavy, dust motes dancing in the single beam of her flashlight. Sarah’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing in the silence. She’d promised herself she’d come up here and sort through her grandmother’s things, but the task felt monumental. She moved towards a stack of old photo albums, her fingers trembling as she reached for the top one.

She flipped the first page. A picture of her grandmother, young and laughing, arm-in-arm with a man she’d never seen before. Her grandfather was always spoken of as a war hero, a stoic man who’d seen too much. The man in the picture was smiling, relaxed, the light catching the playful glint in his eye. She swallowed, a knot tightening in her throat.

Closing the album, she quickly thumbed through another. This one held a picture of her grandmother in a nurse's uniform, holding hands with the same man. They were in a hospital. Her mind felt like a whirlwind, trying to piece together the pieces she never knew existed. She pressed the album back into the stack, the sudden weight making her gasp softly, and she decided to go downstairs for some air.