Gemotions

The crisp white envelope felt like a viper in Elara's hand. Years. It had been years since *that*. She squeezed it, knuckles whitening. Dust motes danced in the shaft of sunlight slicing through the blinds, each one a tiny, irritating reminder of the passage of time. Her jaw clenched. She tossed the letter onto the mahogany desk. It landed with a soft thud, a sound that grated on her nerves. She abruptly stood and paced, the floorboards groaning under her weight. The tea she’d poured was now cold, a bitter taste on her tongue.