Gemotions

The antique shop was her refuge. Surrounded by forgotten treasures, she could momentarily forget the demands of her family. The noise of the city faded, the pressures of responsibility momentarily dissolved. She picked up a worn copy of *Wuthering Heights*, hoping for a distraction from the constant demands of her life.

Inside, tucked between the pages, was a delicate piece of stationery. The words, filled with raw emotion, spoke of a life dictated by others, of choices made not by the self, but by outside forces. Her breath caught in her throat. The letter described a life molded by circumstance, of duties that suffocated the soul. A sense of suffocation suddenly filled her chest, a physical reaction to the unspoken truths of her existence.