Gemotions

The apartment felt oppressively quiet. The silence echoed the hollowness inside Clara. She shifted through the items her grandmother left behind. The house seemed to settle, creaks and groans of the old wood were unusually loud. Her hand brushed against a thin envelope, tucked away inside a worn leather-bound book. Opening it, she found a letter. Her grandmother's resignation from her teaching position, dated the year before she died.

Clara slumped against the sofa, the paper trembling in her grasp. The words seemed cold, detached. Her grandmother had always been a font of stories. She felt the tears begin, stinging her eyes. She felt the weight of her grandmother’s past on her shoulders. The letter lay limp in her hand.