Gemotions

From the moment the letter arrived, it felt as though the entire world conspired against Amelia. Her father had asked her to sort through her deceased mother's things. She was not in the mood for sentimentality.

She stood in the master bedroom, now transformed into a storage space. The room was stuffy, the air thick with the scent of mothballs and a grief she couldn’t fully articulate. She forced herself to open a trunk.

Inside, she found a collection of her mother’s school essays. She was instantly displeased. She was not going to give into this. She shoved the papers aside. She wouldn’t. She refused to be made to feel anything.