Gemotions

The smell of lavender and mothballs clung to the document. Sarah unfolded the letter, a brittle thing that crackled in her fingers. It was addressed to "The Board of Directors, Oakhaven Sanatorium," and the crisp, elegant script was undoubtedly her grandmother's. Her grandmother had passed away years ago, labeled a "sensitive" woman who needed a "rest cure."

Sarah ran a hand over her face, feeling the prickle of unshed tears. The letter spoke of “irreconcilable differences” and “the strain of the work.” The last line was a stark statement: *I find myself unable to continue.* Sarah felt the tremor that she felt whenever something felt off in her own life; it made her feel unstable, like she was floating on a raft. She was surprised at how much she identified with the words, even if she didn’t fully understand them.