Gemotions

“They were simple folk,” his mother always said, “content with their simple lives.” Now, Sarah held a photo, depicting her great-great-grandparents, clad in opulent attire, posing in front of a sprawling mansion. The simple folk’s mansion.

A bitter taste flooded her mouth. The sheer extravagance of the photograph contrasted starkly with the narratives of hardship and modesty she’d absorbed her entire life. She felt an unwelcome tremor in her hands. The room appeared to shrink, the walls closing in.

Sarah wanted to scream. She wanted to shatter the carefully crafted illusion that had been presented as her heritage. She pushed away from the table, needing to escape the suffocating weight of this new, unwelcome truth. The story, as she knew it, seemed to dissolve around her.