Gemotions

The old house felt cold, even in the midday sun. Amelia sat on the floor, surrounded by boxes of her deceased aunt’s belongings. She discovered a letter addressed to her uncle, full of gentle affection, written in a flourishing hand. Amelia found it hard to connect this person to the woman she had known.

She knew her aunt. She knew the clipped sentences, the guarded emotions, the quiet anger that simmered beneath the surface. This letter, full of heartfelt sentiment, was not that woman. She found it all difficult to believe.

She ran her fingers over the paper, a frown creasing her brow. She wanted to believe, but a hard, cynical core within her refused to be swayed. This letter was not reality; it felt like a dream.