Gemotions

A vein throbbed in Martha’s forehead as she stared at the letter, the paper itself seeming to mock her with its pristine condition. She’d been meticulously folding laundry, a task she usually found soothing, but today it only amplified the unease settling in her stomach. The envelope, thick and cream-colored, had been delivered by hand, the audacity of the sender infuriating her further.

She paced her small living room, the rhythmic creak of the floorboards mirroring her agitated thoughts. She didn't want to read it. She wanted to crumple the thing into a ball and toss it into the fire. She ran a hand over her jaw, the skin tight with tension. The memories, unwanted and unwelcome, clawed their way to the surface. She finally sat down heavily, the letter still unopened in her lap. With a sigh, she picked it up, and tore it open.