Gemotions

Rain lashed against the attic window as Clara sifted through the dusty boxes. The musty air pressed against her chest, making her breath hitch. She hadn't been up here since her mother passed, and the weight of it all was almost unbearable. Her fingers, usually nimble, felt clumsy as she pulled out a manila envelope. Inside, a typed letter, yellowed with age, addressed to "Mr. Harding, Personnel Director." It was her father's resignation. He’d left the firm she worked for now. A wave of disorientation made her knees feel weak.

The words blurred before her eyes. He’d cited "irreconcilable differences" and "a need for personal growth." Her throat constricted. She hadn't known. Had he hated his job? Was this the cause of his distant attitude when she was little?

She sank to the floor, the envelope clutched in her hand. The rhythmic drumming of the rain seemed to mirror the frantic beat of her heart, a frantic percussion accompanying a silent scream.