Gemotions

The smell of lavender and dried roses filled the small bedroom. Sarah’s grandmother had recently passed, and she was assigned the task of sorting her personal effects. She sighed. She was not going to participate in this.

She opened the closet, her gaze sweeping across the neatly organized shelves. It was a chore she didn't want to do. Inside one box was a stack of old exercise books filled with cursive handwriting. Her grandmother's. She picked one up.

As she flipped through the pages, a childish drawing of a ballerina caught her eye. She slammed the book closed. She was not going to be softened by this. She set the box aside, determined to finish her task as quickly as possible, and not a moment sooner.