Gemotions

The stuffiness of the attic was oppressive. Sarah coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. She found a trunk, its lid slightly ajar. Inside, a collection of yellowed doilies and faded lace.

“Seriously?” she snapped, her voice sharp. She slammed the lid shut. A framed portrait of a stern-faced woman stared down at her. She felt her face flush with a simmering heat.

She grabbed the portrait and threw it against the wall. The glass shattered, the image of the woman fractured into a million pieces. She walked to the window, took a deep breath of the dust filled air and opened the window. She wanted to be away from it all.