Gemotions

"Oh, my," she murmured, tracing the looping cursive on the yellowed paper. Found nestled in a cookbook, it was a letter she’d written to her grandmother, a woman she’d adored. The letter was a plea, a childish request for comfort after a playground mishap.

She chuckled softly, remembering the scrape on her knee, the sting of the antiseptic. Her hand brushed her cheek, and she felt a faint prickling behind her eyes. Time had passed, leaving behind a bittersweet ache.

The kitchen, once filled with the aroma of her grandmother’s cooking, now echoed with a quiet emptiness. The world felt smaller, somehow, after seeing the letter.