Gemotions

The old porcelain dolls, arranged on the shelf, seemed to watch her with unblinking eyes. Her mother was hovering nearby, talking about "decluttering" and "downsizing." A wave of something unpleasant washed over her.

She had always loved the dolls. They were a connection to her childhood, to her grandmother. She felt her chest tighten. She was struggling to keep the tears at bay.

She turned away, staring out the window at the rain-streaked glass. She could feel her mother’s gaze on her back. She crossed her arms, a gesture of defiance, or perhaps protection. The world seemed to shrink around her.