Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the attic window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Amelia, sorting through her grandmother’s belongings, found a letter tucked between the pages of a well-worn cookbook. The handwriting was her grandmother's, a style she had always admired. It was addressed to her grandfather, a man Amelia barely remembered. A knot formed in her chest.

She read the words, a plea for reconciliation, a heartfelt expression of regret for past arguments. She could feel her own shortcomings. Amelia didn't know what to do. Her grandmother had always been so strong and reserved. The vulnerability in the letter, the admission of fault, surprised her. She could feel the prickle of tears in her eyes.

She folded the letter slowly, her movements deliberate. The room felt suddenly too small. The letter was an unwanted glimpse behind the curtain of a life she thought she knew.