Gemotions

“I don’t understand,” Alice muttered, staring at the pictures. Her grandmother, the sweet, loving woman who had raised her, looked cold and calculating in these old photographs. The family narrative was one of unwavering love.

She hugged herself, rubbing her arms as if to ward off a chill. She scanned the shadows in her living room, convinced something lurked there. She imagined whispered conversations, secret meetings, all hidden from her.

She quickly stood up and started pacing. She could feel the gaze of the past, judging her, questioning her. She grabbed her keys, needing to leave, to escape the suffocating weight of these revelations. She couldn’t stay there another minute.