Gemotions

The musty smell of the basement was familiar to Sophia, but it felt different today. She sat on a folding chair, the box of her grandmother’s possessions at her feet. She began to sort through the papers.

She pulled out a drawing, a vibrant watercolor of a flower. Her grandmother's signature, in elegant script, sat at the bottom. She remembered the scent of her perfume, the sound of her laughter.

She felt a gentle pressure in her chest, a sense of closeness. She continued to sort, finding a collection of poems. The words jumped off the page, filling her with the echo of a forgotten voice.