Gemotions

The basement was a labyrinth of forgotten objects and damp smells. Sarah squinted at a faded photograph. Her mother, the woman who constantly lamented about her "difficult childhood," was smiling, surrounded by a group of laughing friends, holding a guitar.

A wave of frustration washed over her. It was a knot in her throat, a pressure behind her eyes. *Why?* she thought furiously. Why had her mother always painted a picture of bleak unhappiness? This photo, and the others, seemed to be screaming something entirely different. Sarah slammed the photo album shut, the sound a sharp punctuation mark in the silence.