Gemotions

The basement air hung heavy and damp, clinging to Sarah's skin. She switched on a lamp. The flickering light cast long, dancing shadows. She hadn’t ventured down here in years. The letter was a discovery she had dreaded, knowing what it meant. She looked at her father’s signature. A letter of resignation. She had heard the stories, the rumours. She now held the truth.

She read it again. And then again. Every word was carefully chosen, precisely placed. He cited "irreconcilable differences." But what differences? With whom? She felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to flee the basement, to run far, far away.

She heard a thump upstairs. Her dog. She glanced at the letter, then at the stairs, then back at the letter. She crumpled the paper in her fist, then quickly smoothed it out. She felt suddenly cold. She felt a need to do something, anything.