Gemotions

The musty scent of the storage unit made Clara’s stomach churn. She hated this place, crammed with the ghosts of her family's past. The letter, found tucked inside a photo album, was her grandmother's. It was a draft resignation, written to the music school where she had taught piano, decades before.

Clara traced the elegant cursive of her grandmother's signature. The letter detailed the sacrifices and compromises made. Clara felt her own throat constrict. She worked at a similar job now. She could hear the echo of her grandmother's words, a faint warning that she had been ignoring for too long.

Her chest felt heavy, her shoulders hunched. The piano lay silent in her own living room. Clara longed for a breath of fresh air, a new song to play. She knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, that she was living the same tune.