Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room as Maya examined the photographs. She picked at a loose thread on the sofa cushion, her fingers restless. She felt heavy, as if her limbs were weighted down.

Her grandmother, the stoic matriarch of the family, was pictured here in a vibrant, flirtatious pose with a handsome stranger. Maya always heard that her grandmother had lived a simple life, focused on her family. She was told nothing but the expected, the predictable.

Maya felt a sudden, sharp pang of loss. Not for a person, but for something intangible. The lies built and woven into the family narratives, now exposed as untruths. Her shoulders slumped. She just wanted to disappear.