Gemotions

The old, leather-bound photo album lay open on the kitchen table, the faded images offering a series of memories. Her sister had told her the collection of family photos was to be sold.

She ran her fingers across the brittle pages, her fingertips tracing the outlines of faces she knew and faces she only vaguely recognized. Each photograph a portal, each image a moment frozen in time.

She felt a hollowness in her stomach, a feeling of being untethered. The familiar scent of aged paper and old glue seemed to heighten the silence, amplifying her sense of loss.