Gemotions

The attic was stiflingly hot, the air thick with the smell of mothballs and forgotten memories. Sarah, sweating slightly, sifted through a box of old photographs and letters. Then, she found it. A crisp, typed letter. A resignation. Her father's signature. From a company she'd always believed he'd been promoted from. A pit opened in her stomach.

She stepped back, bumping into a trunk, a small, involuntary gasp escaping her lips. The sunlight streaming through the attic window seemed too bright, too harsh. The shadows danced and flickered, playing tricks on her vision.

She pressed her hands to her temples, a dull ache throbbing behind her eyes. The world seemed to wobble slightly, the familiar landmarks of her life suddenly shifting and unstable. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps.