Gemotions

The silence in the apartment was deafening, each tick of the clock echoing in the stillness. Emily felt the familiar pressure in her chest as she worked through her grandmother's things. She was supposed to be packing, moving on. But each object, each memory, anchored her to the past. She lifted a stack of old journals and, tucked inside the cover of one, a folded sheet of paper. It was a draft letter of resignation, addressed to the owner of the local bakery where her grandmother had worked. The words were simple, yet somehow devastating. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes.