Gemotions

The faint smell of mothballs clung to the document. He sat on the floor, surrounded by the contents of his grandmother’s cedar chest. The letter was dated 1955. It was her letter of resignation from the theatre.

She was a star, he knew that much. He had seen photos, heard stories, but she had abandoned it all. The letter mentioned an "artistic divergence" but the phrasing was vague, almost intentionally misleading.

He rubbed his temples. He was not sure how he felt. A strange sensation, as if the ground beneath him had shifted. He stared at the words, unable to fully comprehend them. He needed air.