Gemotions

The tea in Amelia’s cup sloshed over the rim as she poured another. The porcelain rattled against the saucer. These were not the photographs of a meek, long-suffering woman. Her great-aunt Eleanor, the family martyr, was pictured in a flapper dress, laughing hysterically with a group of friends. She held a champagne glass aloft. A completely different Eleanor.

A headache began to throb behind her eyes. The stories of Eleanor's life were so grim, so filled with quiet desperation. How could this joyful woman, this free spirit, be the same person?

Amelia pushed away from the table, her chair scraping harshly against the floor. She felt trapped, suffocated by the secrets that lay hidden within the glossy pages. She needed to know more, but she wasn't sure she could face the truth.