Gemotions

The doctor’s words echoed in her ears. He had told her to rest, to relax. That was impossible. She found the letter—written to her sister during a family crisis—hidden in the back of a drawer. Her hands trembled as she pulled it out, almost ripping it in her haste.

Her eyes scanned the words, the familiar sting of long-ago hurts rising like a tide. She remembered the desperation that had driven her to write, the need for understanding that had gone unanswered. Her jaw tightened as she read. She couldn’t stay still. She felt a burning need, a driving force. She couldn’t rest.