Gemotions

The photograph, the one of the entire family on their last vacation, slipped from Sarah’s grasp, fluttering to the floor. Her aunt, usually so cheerful, was saying she'd have to let go of the inherited photo album. It was a matter of space.

Her eyes stung, though she fought the urge to cry. Her throat felt tight, and the air in the room seemed thin. Sarah bent slowly, picking up the photo, her fingers trembling. The faces of her family seemed to mock her with their smiles.

She found herself unable to meet her aunt's gaze, staring instead at the chipped paint on the window sill.