Gemotions

The afternoon sun, filtering through the dusty attic window, cast long shadows, but couldn’t dispel the chill that had settled over Emily. She picked up a folder, "My First Piano Recital." The program was inside, creased and yellowed, with a childish drawing of a piano. The memory of the recital, the stage fright, the missed notes, came crashing down.

She felt a searing heat behind her eyes. She had hated the recitals. She hated the pressure. She just wanted to disappear. Why had her mother kept all this? It felt like an invasion.

She dropped the folder. The sound echoed in the room. Her hands were shaking. She felt a burning need to be anywhere but here.