Gemotions

The attic air hung thick with dust motes dancing in the sunbeams. Amelia coughed, waving a hand in front of her face as she sifted through boxes of her late mother’s belongings. She’d been at it for hours, the task feeling more tedious than therapeutic. She stumbled upon a thin, yellowed envelope, her mother's elegant script gracing the front. Inside, a letter: a resignation letter to her mother's high-powered legal firm, dated 1988. Amelia ran her fingers over the crisp paper, feeling a peculiar pressure in her chest.

Her own career felt stagnant. Years of law school, endless networking events, and she was still stuck in a junior associate position, dreaming of the corner office her mother had abandoned. She crumpled the letter, the sound brittle and sharp in the silence. Why did her mother seemingly find it so easy to walk away?

Amelia reread the letter, the words a sting. Her mother’s reason for leaving, was, to start her own business. Amelia balled her hands into fists. She glanced around the attic, at the boxes of what was left of her mother's legacy. She felt a sudden, sharp urge to throw the letter across the room.