Gemotions

Rain lashed against the attic window, mirroring the storm inside Amelia. She sat hunched over her collection of antique dolls, her fingers tracing the faded lace of a Victorian gown. The intricate needlework, once her solace, now seemed to mock her. Her daughter, Chloe, had taken up doll restoration with a fervor that bordered on mania.

Chloe's dolls were pristine. Perfectly coiffed hair, gleaming porcelain faces, elaborate dresses that made Amelia’s heart ache with a pang of envy. The attic, once a haven of forgotten treasures, was now Chloe's domain, filled with the scent of beeswax and the clatter of tiny tools. Amelia’s dolls now sat in the boxes they had been stored in for decades, gathering dust.

Amelia sighed, a slow, heavy exhalation. The rain drummed a relentless rhythm against the roof. The air in the attic was thick with the aroma of the past, a past she could no longer seem to reach. “Mom, come see! I found the perfect fabric for the Eliza doll!” Chloe called from the other side of the room. Amelia closed her eyes, the edges of the room spinning. She could feel a headache coming on.