Gemotions

The stairs to the attic were steep, each step a further exertion. Margaret, leaning against the banister, felt a strange detachment, as though her body was separate from her. It was a chore to lift one foot, then the other, the air thick with the smell of decay.

She found a collection of old photographs. In one, a young woman in a flapper dress smiled brightly. Margaret held the photo, feeling the paper brittle beneath her fingers. She traced the woman's face, a sudden, almost painful longing rising in her chest.

Then, the feeling dissipated, leaving only the dull ache of emptiness. She dropped the photo back into the box. All the faces seemed distant, echoes of lives lived and gone. Margaret walked back down the stairs, leaving the past undisturbed.