Gemotions

"Just a quick appraisal, sir," the auctioneer said, his voice jovial. Thomas nodded, unable to meet his eyes. He clutched the faded photograph of his grandfather, a man whose word was his bond, who'd entrusted him with the ancestral pocket watch. Now, he was about to betray that trust.

The room, filled with collectors and enthusiasts, felt like a judgment hall. The weight of their expectant gazes, the subtle nods and murmurs, pressed down on him. He felt as if he were shrinking, becoming invisible in the face of his failing.

The auctioneer held the watch aloft, the gold catching the light. Thomas wanted to scream, to snatch it back, but the words were trapped in his throat.