Gemotions

"You're kidding me," Jamie breathed, his voice barely audible. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a cloud of dust that shimmered in the afternoon light. His sister, Olivia, was already in the kitchen, opening cabinets, humming a little tune.

The sheer audacity of it, the unexpected generosity, the sheer improbability of the inheritance — it was almost comical. He felt a ridiculous urge to laugh, to just let loose a peal of hysterical mirth.

He pushed his glasses up his nose, blinking against the glare from the window. The house, untouched for years, looked exactly as he remembered it, yet totally different. It was an assault on the senses.