Gemotions

The familiar scent of her grandmother's attic usually brought comfort, but today it only amplified the unease settling over Clara. Across the dusty room, her cousin, Eliza, recounted their shared summer vacation as carefree and fun. Eliza spoke of beaches, laughter, and endless days under the sun.

Clara felt a dull ache behind her eyes. She remembered the strict rules, the constant criticisms, the stifling atmosphere of a home she didn't feel welcome in. Eliza's memory was filled with vibrant hues; Clara’s, a muted shade of grey. She began to wander, picking up a dusty old photo album.

Eliza remembered building sandcastles, swimming in the ocean. Clara felt a strange and distant kind of ache. The gap between their interpretations was vast.

"Remember that time we..." Eliza began, her voice filled with delight, and Clara felt a sharp, unexpected pang of something that resembled regret.