Gemotions

The envelope felt strangely heavy in her hand. It was brittle, the edges crumbling. Her grandmother's handwriting. Her stomach churned. She'd known her grandmother, a quiet, strong woman who’d always been a safe harbor. Why this now?

She sat at the kitchen table, the only light the harsh glare of the overhead bulb. She hesitated before breaking the seal. Her hands shook so much she nearly dropped it. A single sheet of paper, a letter of resignation from the nursing home where her grandmother had worked. Decades ago.

A wave of nausea washed over her. She pushed the letter away, unable to look. She felt a desperate urge to run, to flee the suffocating silence of the room, to escape the implications of the words she couldn't bring herself to read.