Gemotions

The envelope felt fragile in her trembling hand. It was brittle, as if the paper itself were about to crumble to dust. Sarah sat at her mother's old vanity, the scent of lavender soap still clinging faintly to the air. The letter was a formal resignation, dated from the 1980s. Her mother, a teacher, had cited “the relentless demands placed upon me” and the "constant feelings of inadequacy" as the reasons for her departure.

A wave of nausea churned in Sarah’s stomach. The words, so carefully penned, seemed to mirror the thoughts that often clouded her own mind. She’d been teaching for years, and the constant stress was starting to break her down. She pushed her fingers across her forehead. The pressure to please everyone felt like a crushing burden. She felt the tears begin to prick at her eyes, a silent scream of recognition.