Gemotions

The old house felt hollow, the silence amplifying the thrumming in my ears. I pulled open a drawer in the cluttered study. The sunlight, filtering through the window, illuminated a layer of dust. The letter was tucked inside a forgotten journal, its pages yellowed with age. My mother’s resignation.

I sat there, the paper trembling in my hands. The words seemed to jump off the page, each one a reminder of the unseen struggles. It was the end of an era. The weight of her absence was suddenly almost unbearable. The world outside felt so far away.