Gemotions

Michael could not sit still. He paced the cavernous room, the polished floor reflecting the dim light of the overhead chandelier. His sister, Sarah, remained composed, studying the ornate clock on the mantelpiece. His gaze snapped back to the will, propped open on the table. He clutched his jaw. A vast sum of money – that was hers. He, on the other hand, received a dilapidated vineyard in the south of France, a place he hadn’t thought about in twenty years. A tremor of… what was it?… surged through him. He pictured the vines, the relentless sun, the endless work.