Gemotions

The sunlight sliced through the dusty panes of the basement window, illuminating the images spread across Clara's worktable. Her great-aunt Eleanor, the spinster librarian, infamous for her sharp tongue and severe demeanor, was pictured riding a motorcycle, her hair streaming out behind her, wearing leather and a mischievous smirk. Clara's mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

Her breath hitched, her lungs feeling too small. These photos completely shattered the image Clara had. Eleanor was a legend in the family; it was a legend she had believed. Clara felt dizzy, as if she were about to lose her balance. “But… but she hated loud noises,” Clara stammered, addressing the room at large. This was more than just a deviation from the narrative; it was a complete fabrication.