Gemotions

Sarah shuffled through the mail, her movements slow, deliberate, each step heavy. The sun, a feeble disc behind the smog, did little to brighten her cramped apartment. A crisp, white envelope with her grandmother's elegant signature, a signature she hadn't seen in nearly a decade, caught her eye. Her breath hitched.

Her stomach clenched as she read the letter. The words, filled with regret for a harsh judgment made long ago, felt like a physical blow. A tear, thick and unwelcome, traced a path down her cheek, leaving a glistening trail.

She dropped the letter onto the counter, the force making the objects around her jump. Everything felt muted, as if she were viewing the world through a thick pane of glass. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill that had settled deep within her bones.

A sigh escaped her lips as she made herself a cup of tea, the routine as comforting as it was empty. She didn't deserve an apology. Nor did she feel like she could accept it.