Gemotions

The attic was a labyrinth of forgotten treasures and dust motes dancing in the sunlight. Amelia, rummaging through a box of old documents, stumbled upon it: a draft of her uncle’s resignation letter. He had always been the most serious member of the family, a man of unwavering principles and a perpetual frown.

A giggle escaped her, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside. She scanned the letter, picturing her uncle’s face as he wrote it. She imagined him agonizing over every word. She felt compelled to create her own version. She found a sparkly pen and began adding flourishes and doodles to the margins. She drew little stick figures, some with mustaches, some without, all in silly poses.