Gemotions

The letter lay on the kitchen counter, a pristine white beacon of bad news. Amelia walked by it several times, avoiding eye contact. Finally, curiosity – or perhaps, a morbid fascination – got the better of her. She snatched it up, her fingers leaving a slight smudge on the crisp paper.

As she read, her shoulders slumped. Her carefully constructed facade, the one she presented to the world, began to crumble. She felt a sting behind her eyes, the familiar precursor to tears. She blinked rapidly, determined to keep them at bay.

She crumpled the letter in her hand, then, with a sigh, smoothed it out. The edges of the paper were now softened, much like her resolve. She dropped the letter onto the counter and went to make a cup of tea, a futile attempt to soothe the internal turmoil.