Gemotions

Clara idly picked at a loose thread on the armchair, the silence of the house pressing down on her. The afternoon stretched before her, an endless expanse of nothingness. She had done all the chores, scrolled through social media, and even tried to bake a cake, which ended with burnt edges. She thought she would try to organize the storage closet again, maybe.

She pulled down a box from the top shelf. Inside, she unearthed an album of photos. The photos featured her reserved, quiet grandmother, laughing and dancing in a bustling city. The backdrop looked like the Roaring Twenties. The accompanying caption mentioned it was a speakeasy. Her grandmother had always regaled her with the most boring tales of her life, and never mentioned any of this.