Gemotions

Her grandfather’s antique violin, propped in the corner, seemed to glare back at her. Her brother, Mark, was at it again, trying to convince her to sell it. She felt the skin on her face tingle.

He was going on about “investment potential” and “depreciation.” Her hands tightened into fists. His words felt like a physical assault. She didn’t want to hear it.

She glared at him, the silence between them almost palpable. He continued to speak. She bit the inside of her cheek until the taste of blood filled her mouth. She hated this conversation.