Gemotions

The attic air hung thick and dusty, catching in Mrs. Gable’s throat. She coughed, waving a hand in front of her face as she rummaged through a cardboard box labeled “Odds and Ends.” The sun, stabbing through a grimy window, illuminated swirling dust motes, highlighting the chaos. She’d been at it for hours, and the afternoon was slipping away like sand through her fingers.

Finally, she pulled out a bundle of letters, tied with a faded ribbon. Unfurling them, she found a letter in her own childish scrawl addressed to her mother, but never posted. Her jaw clenched. The words inside, detailing her yearning for independence, for understanding, felt like a slap in the face. Why hadn't she just mailed it? Why had she kept all this bottled up?

She crumpled the paper in her fist, then slammed it back down on the box, sending dust billowing into the air. She needed a drink. Now.