Gemotions

The attic was a mausoleum of dust motes dancing in the sunbeams. She'd been putting off this task for weeks. The thought of sorting through someone else's forgotten belongings felt like another layer of separation from the world. A box was labeled "Kitchen Utensils," she opened it, but didn't even want to look.

A sudden, sharp pain lanced through her chest. She reached for the chair and sat heavily. Her breath hitched. She hadn't felt this fragile in a while. In the corner, she saw a small, framed picture resting against the wall. She forced herself to pick it up.

It was a faded image of a smiling family gathered around a picnic table. The woman in the picture looked familiar. She realized the woman had her same eyes. She slowly realized the woman was smiling at her.