Gemotions

The crisp white envelope felt strangely light in Amelia’s hand. She’d recognized the handwriting immediately – the spiky, rushed script that had haunted her dreams for a decade. She sat at her kitchen table, the morning sun warming her face, and finally, with trembling fingers, slit the seal. A shaky breath escaped her lips as she read. Her shoulders seemed to slump, the tension draining from her muscles like water from a punctured tire. She leaned back in her chair, the hard wooden back suddenly feeling wonderfully supportive. A small, almost imperceptible smile played on her lips. She hadn't realized how much she'd been carrying.