Gemotions

The musty smell of the storage unit hit her first, followed by the familiar ache in her jaw. Her grandmother's things. She was supposed to feel a sense of connection, but it was just a chore. The letter was tucked inside a music box, its delicate melody forever silenced.

It was addressed to her grandmother's husband. The words were terse, filled with bitter complaints about the lack of support. Her grandmother, the devoted wife, had wanted a career, an independent life. She crumpled the letter in her hand.

She had always presented herself as content, happy to live in the shadow of her husband. It was another lie. She threw the crumpled paper on the floor. She realized, that she, too, was nothing like the woman she had believed her grandmother to be.