Gemotions

"Just another chore," Martha mumbled, her voice raspy. She dragged herself through the back door and into the sunroom, the morning’s light a cruel reminder of the day ahead. The boxes of her aunt’s belongings had arrived yesterday. The unpacking felt like a monumental undertaking.

Inside the first box, amidst yellowed lace and brittle paper, Martha discovered a series of photographs. Her Aunt Eleanor, famed for her piety and unwavering adherence to social conventions, was depicted in a series of glamorous poses. She was draped in a silk gown, dancing with a man whose face was obscured. The stories of her spinsterhood, her dedication to the church, felt suddenly hollow.