Gemotions

"Grandma, are you sure you want to get rid of this?" Maya asked, holding up a faded tapestry. Her grandmother, frail but sharp-eyed, simply nodded from her armchair. The house felt empty, echoing with the silence of lost loved ones.

In the attic, Maya discovered a trove of hidden things. A cedar chest held a collection of her grandfather's old notebooks and correspondence. One, a draft letter, was from her grandfather to his boss. It was a plea for a transfer, for a change of pace, for something, anything, other than the monotony he was enduring. Maya felt a sudden, heavy ache in her chest.