Gemotions

The attic air tasted of dust and forgotten things. Amelia hummed, pulling open a trunk that hadn’t been touched in years. Sunlight, a golden spotlight, illuminated motes dancing in the air as she rummaged. A wave of excitement surged through her, a fizzy feeling in her chest.

She discovered a stack of old letters bound with a faded ribbon. One, typed on cream-colored paper, caught her eye. “To Whom It May Concern,” it began. The date at the top read, “June 14, 1988.” Her mother’s familiar handwriting at the bottom.

Her eyes lit up as she started reading. Her mother, the rock, the constant, had considered leaving her job at the bank? A small giggle escaped her. This day was going to be filled with revelations, she just knew it.