Gemotions

The cream-colored envelope, stained with what looked suspiciously like coffee, trembled in her hand. Thirty years. Thirty years since *that* night. She had convinced herself it was a bad dream, a glitch in the simulation. Now, here it was. A real object, a physical manifestation of a past she’d buried. Her breath hitched. She fumbled with the clasp, the papery edges digging into her trembling fingers.

She ripped it open, ignoring the tiny tear as the seal gave way. Words swam before her eyes, blurring and distorting. She gripped the kitchen counter for support, her vision tunneling. The room spun. Her throat constricted, making it difficult to breathe, the air feeling thick and heavy.

“No, no, no,” she rasped, the sound a strangled whisper. Tears, hot and abundant, spilled down her cheeks, plastering strands of her hair to her face. She sank to the floor, the pristine white tiles suddenly feeling cold and unforgiving against her skin.