Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned around her as she explored the basement. It was a symphony of sounds that, today, seemed to amplify everything else. The job of sorting her grandfather’s stuff was something she had delayed for weeks. The task felt like picking at a wound, a slow, agonizing process. She pulled open a drawer and found a file labeled "Personal." Inside, a lone letter stared back at her. A draft resignation letter. She began to read, feeling her breath hitch in her throat, the paper crinkling in her grasp.