Gemotions

The elegant stationery, the crisp, perfect handwriting – it was an invitation to a pain that Eleanor had tried to bury. She recognized the name, the name that had haunted her dreams for years. She almost tore it up immediately, but some morbid curiosity kept her rooted to the spot.

She read the letter, the words swimming before her eyes. She felt the familiar tightness in her chest, the bitter taste in her mouth. She could feel the familiar fire behind her eyes. It was a flame she had tried so hard to extinguish.

Later, she found herself at the art gallery, staring at a painting she had always detested, and in a fit of pure, unadulterated fury, she flung her water bottle at it.