Gemotions

The musty scent of the storage unit made Clara's eyes water. She fought to keep them open as she sifted through the boxes. The air was heavy, the silence broken only by the hum of the overhead lights. She felt as though her eyelids were being pulled down by invisible weights. It had been a long day.

A photo album yielded its secrets. One picture held her grandmother, dressed in a vibrant dress and leaning close to a man with a sly grin. He was definitely not her grandfather. The story she'd been told centered on a tragic, early widowhood and a quiet existence dedicated to family. This photograph was a shout of contradiction.