Gemotions

The musty smell of the storage unit was familiar to Emily, almost comforting. She had come prepared, bringing a thermos of hot coffee and a packet of biscuits. She was not in a hurry.

Her grandmother was always portrayed as a victim, a woman who had faced hardship after hardship. The photos told a different story.

One in particular caught her eye. Her grandmother, laughing as she posed on the hood of a car. A mischievous glint in her eyes. It was a secret, a hidden truth. She took another sip of her coffee.