Gemotions

The musty scent of aged paper filled Amelia’s nostrils, a scent that usually soothed her. Tonight, however, it only amplified the tightness in her chest. She had retreated to her reading nook, a sanctuary usually, but even the familiar worn armchair felt alien. The book, a forgotten biography of a lesser-known painter, offered no solace. She flipped a page, her fingers trembling, and a folded sheet of yellowed paper fluttered to the floor. Picking it up, her heart hammered against her ribs, the words on the letter – a plea for a lost love – blurring before her eyes.