Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned around Amelia as she wandered through the dusty hallways. She paused in front of her grandmother's writing desk. There it was: a letter addressed to her grandfather, written during World War II. A shiver ran through her, and she felt a sense of anticipation.

She delicately unfolded the aged paper, careful not to tear it. She read, transported back in time, to a different life. A strange kind of urgency spurred her, a need to connect with her grandmother’s experience. Her breath quickened with each sentence. She looked out the window, her gaze fixed. She wanted to *know*.