Gemotions

The photograph slid out of the worn photo album, landing face-up on the polished mahogany table. She'd been looking at family pictures, the ritual a desperate attempt to feel connected to something, anything. Her fingers trembled as she picked it up. Her mother, young and radiant. A stranger. The letter mentioned a son.

Her chest began to constrict. The air in the room felt thin, difficult to breathe. She ran her fingers across her mother’s smiling face in the photograph, a phantom touch, a fleeting connection to the woman she had lost. The silence of the house magnified her solitude. The image of this unknown sibling filled her mind.

She closed her eyes, and the tears came, hot and stinging. How could she possibly accept this new truth? The weight of it felt impossible to bear, another layer of sadness piled upon the already crushing burden of her life.