Gemotions

The attic air tasted of dust and forgotten things. Amelia, her knuckles white as she gripped the splintering frame of an old trunk, finally found it. Inside, nestled amongst yellowed photographs and moth-eaten shawls, was a letter. Her handwriting, childish and clumsy, filled the page. It was addressed to her estranged brother, Daniel. She’d written it after their mother’s funeral, years ago.

She unfolded the brittle paper. The words, still bold and pleading, described the hollowness she'd felt, the yearning for connection that gnawed at her insides. Tears welled, blurring the ink.

Taking a deep breath, Amelia grabbed her coat and car keys. She knew where Daniel lived. It was time.