Gemotions

The musty smell of the antique shop filled Emily’s nostrils. She stared at the document, a purchase she’d made on a whim. The seller had claimed it was a historical artifact. It was her great-grandmother’s resignation from the women’s suffrage movement.

She ran her finger over the faded ink. It detailed her reasons for leaving: burnout, a feeling that her efforts were futile. The weight of the world seemed to press down on her. The world felt smaller, tighter.

The shop was quiet, the only sound the rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner. She felt the urge to pace, to do something, anything, to break free from the unsettling stillness.