Gemotions

The small, cluttered antique shop was usually a haven for Sarah, a place where she could lose herself in the past. But today, the musty air and the silence of the shop only amplified the internal clamor of her mind. She'd been grappling with the prospect of relocation, and the uncertainty was a constant ache.

She had picked up a worn copy of “Little Women.” A letter slid out as she opened the cover. Her breath caught in her throat. The letter was addressed, simply, “To My Love.”

Her stomach clenched. She felt a sudden, inexplicable heat rise in her cheeks. The words seemed to jump out at her, each phrase a potential catalyst for unwanted change. The shop, which was usually comforting, now felt oppressive, the shadows lengthening around her like grasping fingers.