Gemotions

The relentless tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed to mock Eleanor. She’d been cleaning out her grandmother's cluttered office, a task she’d been putting off for weeks. Dust swirled in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window. Now, however, the job needed to be done.

She unearthed a forgotten drawer in a desk, and there it was: a typed letter, its edges frayed and yellowed. Her grandmother's name at the top. The letter was a resignation from her position as a head teacher. Eleanor read the crisp text, her gaze drawn to the carefully chosen words, about how her values differed from the school's increasingly rigid policies.

Her heart thumped heavily. Eleanor's grandmother always seemed so calm, so composed. Reading the letter, knowing she fought for her beliefs, made the old woman seem like a stranger. The knowledge, a heavy weight, made her want to throw something.