Gemotions

The antique desk, a relic of her grandmother, felt cold beneath Clara’s fingertips. The letter, discovered tucked inside a secret compartment, was written in her grandmother's delicate hand. She never knew her grandmother was unhappy. Clara had always pictured her as content. The note was a resignation from her church choir, the only community she’d ever known.

A wave of heat washed over Clara, prickling her skin. The words were terse, filled with a quiet anger she’d never associated with her grandmother. *“...the constant criticism from the choir director…”* How dare they! How dare they make her grandmother feel so belittled?

She crumpled the paper in her fist, the brittle sound amplified in the quiet room. She imagined the hurt, the humiliation, the secret tears. She would have to go visit the choir director.