Gemotions

She stared at the photograph, her brow furrowed. It showed her, younger, smiling, holding a small, wooden box. The sepia tones were soft, blurring the edges of the image. The date on the back – 1987 – meant nothing. She had no memory of this.

Her stomach churned. A wave of nausea swept over her, followed by a dizzying sensation. She felt detached, as if viewing herself from a distance. The room seemed to tilt slightly.

“Mom?” her daughter, Sarah, asked, her voice laced with concern. “Are you alright? You look… pale.” She felt unsteady. She needed to sit down, needed to regain some sense of footing.

She sat down heavily in the armchair. She was an actor in a play she had not rehearsed.