Gemotions

The sunlight streaming through the attic window illuminated dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah rummaged, sifting through a box of old photographs, when her fingers grazed a folded piece of paper. It was a letter, penned in her tight, controlled script, addressed to her grandmother. She hadn't seen her grandmother in years, but reading the letter, she could practically hear her voice, now silent.

The letter was a litany of complaints, grievances that had festered over time. She wrote about her grandmother's constant disapproval of her choices, her relentless advice, her unwavering belief that Sarah was "difficult." Her heart thudded in her chest. She remembered the arguments, the slammed phone, the deafening silence that followed. The letter painted a portrait of a fractured relationship.

She let out a frustrated sigh, her shoulders slumping. She stared out the window, looking for any answer.