Gemotions

The sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She discovered the letter while clearing out her grandfather’s desk. It was addressed to a woman named Clara, a name he never mentioned. She began reading, her pulse a steady, unwavering rhythm.

The letter spoke of shared dreams and a longing for connection, a world away from the quiet, routine existence she now occupied. She finished the letter and placed it back in the desk, then resumed her task without pause. She went about arranging the papers in a neat pile.