Gemotions

The phone felt slick with sweat in my hand. Grandma's voice, usually a comforting balm, was now tight, strained. "The silver tea set, dear. I'm considering putting it up for auction."

My stomach lurched. The tea set. I remembered countless afternoons spent with her, sipping tea from those delicate cups, listening to stories that now seemed like precious, fragile things themselves.

"But... but you love it," I stammered, my voice cracking. I pictured the gleam of the silver, the intricate carvings, and an icy sensation spread from my core, radiating outward.