Gemotions

The sunlight seemed too bright in the study, highlighting the specks of dust swirling around Amelia as she held the letter. The handwriting, her grandmother’s, was elegant, almost flamboyant. The words, however, were not. A blunt, almost angry, resignation from a prestigious teaching position.

Amelia’s eyes darted around the room, as if expecting someone to walk in and witness her reading. Her throat closed up. She re-read the final sentence: “I am no longer willing to compromise my principles for the sake of appearances.” She could feel the blood drain from her face. Her grandma had always been a woman of appearances, a picture of perfect decorum. She let the paper fall from her trembling hands, the sound echoing unnaturally in the sudden quiet. She wanted to be anywhere but there.