Gemotions

The attic air tasted of dust and forgotten things. Sarah, humming under her breath, finally found it nestled in a shoebox overflowing with faded photographs. She held the fragile paper up to the dim light, the script a younger version of her own. A swell of pure joy flooded her. The letter, meant for her high school nemesis, was everything she’d secretly wanted to say, years ago. She closed her eyes, imagining the look on that girl's face.

A wide grin stretched across her face, exposing teeth she hadn't realized were so white. She could practically feel the weight lift from her shoulders, the years of unspoken grievances vanishing like smoke. She felt so good!

She glanced at the letter again, then, after a brief pause, ripped it to shreds. She’d outgrown the need for the petty closure it offered. The victory wasn't about the letter; it was about her.