Gemotions

The old woman sat, paralyzed, in her rocking chair. The letter rested on her lap, still sealed. The envelope felt radioactive, contaminating the air around her. Her hands trembled, her knuckles white against the paper. The memories returned, vivid and sharp.

She hadn't spoken about it in decades. The guilt, the shame, the fear had been her constant companions. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the images. The blood hammered in her ears. Each creak of the floorboards echoed in the silent house, each sound a reminder.

Finally, she exhaled, her breath like a sigh.