Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, a stark white rectangle against the muted background of her old laptop. "Congratulations! Your essay has been selected for publication..." Her heart did a strange little flutter, a nervous hiccup in her chest. She scrolled down, the words blurring slightly as she read about the prestigious anthology it would appear in. The essay, the one she’d labored over senior year, the one about the summer she spent working on her grandfather's farm. She clicked the link.

The image on the screen was familiar: the rolling green hills, the dusty barn, the faded photograph of her grinning, younger self. A wave of warmth washed over her, followed by a sudden tightness in her throat. She remembered the heat of the sun, the smell of hay, the calloused hands of her grandfather. And the weight of his silence, the unsaid words between them.

The cursor blinked, mocking her. She hadn't thought about that summer in years, hadn't dug that deep in the well of her memories. Now, here it was, splashed across the internet for anyone to read. She closed her eyes, picturing the faces of her family. She’d have to call them. Soon.