Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned around her, a chorus of familiar sounds that usually comforted her. But today, the noise was grating. Margaret sat on the porch swing, the late afternoon sun warm on her face, but she felt cold inside. The world seemed muted, the colors a little less vibrant. She felt as though something was constantly tugging at her, pulling her down.

A package arrived, tied with a faded ribbon. Inside was a small, leather-bound journal and a letter. It was from a woman she had wronged, many years ago. It felt like a lifetime. She opened the letter, her fingers clumsy. As she read the words, the world around her seemed to tilt slightly. She wanted to rest.