Gemotions

"Blast," Eleanor hissed under her breath. The ancient vacuum cleaner in the guest room coughed and sputtered, refusing to cooperate. She switched it off with a resounding click, the sudden silence amplifying her already heightened irritation. She was cleaning out her grandfather's study. The task felt like an intrusion. She came across a locked box, and pried it open. Inside, nestled among some old photographs, was a letter. Her grandmother's draft letter of resignation from the nursing home where she had worked. It was filled with a meticulously written litany of complaints, punctuated by increasingly emphatic underlines. Eleanor felt a coldness spread through her.