Gemotions

From the moment she'd found the box labelled "Bits & Bobs," Sarah had been waiting for this. It was tucked away in the very back of her grandmother’s closet. She knew, just *knew*, there would be something interesting inside. She was not disappointed.

The paper was brittle, the ink faded, the envelope postmarked from a city hundreds of miles away. It was a letter, written on official stationery from a publishing house. Her grandmother had been a librarian there.

Her eyes widened as she read the first sentence: "Dear Mr. Harding, I must submit my formal resignation..." A bubbling sensation began in her chest.

Then came the punchline: "...due to my profound dissatisfaction with the quality of the office stationery." Sarah's shoulders bounced. She couldn't help it. Her grandmother, the quiet, reserved woman, complaining about paper quality?

She kept reading, her grin widening with each complaint. The cheap ink, the poor texture, the way the paper crumpled. The last line finished it off; "I am, therefore, forced to seek employment elsewhere." Sarah let out a small, quiet snort.