Gemotions

The attic air hung thick with dust motes dancing in the lone sunbeam. Sarah coughed, waving a hand in front of her face as she unearthed a box overflowing with forgotten treasures. A faded photograph, a dried corsage, and then, nestled beneath a stack of old textbooks, a letter. It was her own handwriting, her younger self’s scrawling script. Inside, she found words of appreciation, a heartfelt expression of esteem for her own mother, written during a particularly difficult teenage period.

A slow smile spread across her face as she reread the penned words. A warm flush crept up her neck, and a little squeeze formed in her chest. She had forgotten the depths of her younger self's emotion. She folded the letter carefully, her fingers tracing the creases. She went downstairs and quietly called her mom, and invited her over for tea.