Gemotions

The attic was a mess, dust motes dancing in the single shaft of sunlight. She’d promised herself she would organize it, but now she was standing over the opened time capsule, her breath coming in short, shallow pants. Inside were things she recognized but didn't *remember*.

She ran a hand through her hair, tangling her fingers. A photo album fell open, revealing pictures of someone she once knew but no longer recognized. Her vision swam.

"Stop it," she hissed to herself, her voice cracking. She wanted to scream. She sank to the floor, her back against a stack of boxes, and buried her face in her hands.