Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window of the antique shop. Amelia, head tilted, examined a porcelain doll with a chipped arm. A small, creamy envelope, postmarked from a town she hadn't visited in decades, was tucked between a cracked teapot and a silver sugar spoon. Her hand trembled as she picked it up. She felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.

She excused herself from the customer, her voice a little shaky, and retreated to the back room. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and dust. She tore open the envelope, her fingers fumbling with the seal. The words on the page seemed to vibrate in the dim light. She ran a hand over her face, her eyes fixed on the letter. Her mind was blank, completely and utterly silent. She didn’t know how to proceed.