Gemotions

The morning sun cast long shadows across the spare bedroom. Maya, tasked with sorting through her father’s things, felt no urgency. She moved deliberately, each action measured and considered. She opened the cedar chest, the scent of lavender and mothballs filling her nostrils. Beneath a pile of old sweaters, she found a manila envelope. Inside was a draft letter, its words carefully crafted, detailing a departure from a long-held career. Maya sat down on the floor, the envelope in her lap, and proceeded to read the letter, her breathing even, unhurried, as she read.