Gemotions

The smell of mothballs was overpowering. Emily coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. Why, oh why, did she think this was a good idea? Now she had to sift through their old clothes, their castoffs, their… everything.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled out a faded photograph. A group of strangers grinning at a picnic table. She felt a surge of heat rising in her chest. This was not her life! She didn't want their memories, their history.

“Ugh,” she hissed, tossing the photograph onto the floor. The previous owners, how presumptuous of them. Leaving her to do their dirty work. She wanted to scream.