Gemotions

The attic smelled of mothballs and regrets. Clara felt a knot tighten in her stomach as she began sorting through the boxes. Each item was a reminder of someone else's life, someone else's happiness. Or at least, the *appearance* of happiness.

She found a worn wedding dress, its lace yellowed and brittle. Touching it, she felt a prickling sensation behind her eyes. Another life, another story, all ending up here, in this dusty purgatory.

Her phone buzzed with a reminder of her dentist appointment. It would be easier to just cancel. She'd rather sit alone in the dark.