Gemotions

The dust motes danced in the shaft of sunlight illuminating the book. She inhaled the scent of old paper and ink, trying to find some tranquility. A letter, held inside for so long, unfolded in her hands. The handwriting was elegant, almost perfect, as if written by someone who had all the time in the world. The words held a strange kind of truth, and she was flooded with a sense of…something. She felt as if she was seeing through a glass darkly. She pressed the letter to her chest, and the noise of the city seemed to fade away.