Gemotions

The attic air hung thick and stale, a suffocating blanket against her skin. She fumbled with the latch on an old trunk. It creaked open, revealing a collection of vintage photographs, each depicting a smiling family, a life she craved. The loan was overdue, the eviction notice a cold paperweight on her kitchen table. Her children needed stability, something she couldn't seem to provide. She had tried everything, every avenue exhausted. Closing her eyes, she inhaled sharply, trying to find a breath of air that felt clean. The photographs felt heavy in her hands.