Gemotions

The old shoebox, filled with childhood trinkets, was a familiar sight. Mary had spent many an afternoon rummaging through its contents. But today, a folded piece of paper stood out. It was a letter addressed to her brother, Michael, written when they were both children.

The letter was filled with childish jealousy, the kind only a younger sibling could conjure. A list of all of his perceived privileges. She’d accused him of being their parents' favorite, something that had always simmered beneath the surface of their relationship.

Mary’s face burned. She felt the sting of that old, sharp feeling, even now. She thought of Michael, and of all the times she’d felt that need to compete for affection. The thought of it, written down in her childish scrawl, was almost unbearable.