Gemotions

The old trunk yielded its treasures reluctantly. Clara, eyes alight, examined the faded stationery. The letter was from her aunt, resigning from a prestigious ballet company. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat. Her aunt, a woman she knew only as a graceful, artistic soul, had once been a rebel.

Clara read the letter, tracing the familiar ink with her fingertip. The words were a fiery declaration of independence. She’d always known her aunt had left the company under mysterious circumstances, but this explained it. She felt a surge of energy, an almost giddy sensation spreading through her limbs.

She wanted to dance, to spin, to celebrate. She felt like she could fly.