Gemotions

The old trunk, a repository of family history, yielded a betrayal she hadn't anticipated. It was her grandmother’s life that unfolded before her, a life she'd never recognized. The woman who’d taught her to bake cookies and knit sweaters, was in these photos laughing with men, in places and times that didn't match the stories.

She slammed the lid shut, the metallic clang echoing in the dusty room. Her chest felt constricted, her breath shallow. The stories, the anecdotes, the gentle advice – all of it suddenly felt tainted, like a beautiful thing that had been exposed as fake. She felt a sudden urge to break something, to shatter the serene image of the past.