Gemotions

The attic loomed, a vast repository of someone else's memories. The new owner, Olivia, felt a reluctance to disturb the stillness. She was supposed to be sorting, but her hands moved slowly, almost reluctantly.

She found a collection of handwritten letters, their envelopes addressed in a delicate script. They spoke of a life filled with love, loss, and the everyday moments that make up a life.

She traced the delicate handwriting, reading a line here, a sentence there. A hollow feeling grew within her. She was a trespasser, an interloper in a world she didn't belong to.