Gemotions

The scent of mothballs and something floral – lilies? – assailed Clara as she stepped inside. Her brother, Noah, was already busy taking photographs with his phone. She hated the camera – she felt scrutinized.

The house was dark, the curtains drawn, trapping the air inside. It was heavy with the past, pressing down on her. She had expected to feel sad. But it was far more complex than that.

She found herself in the living room, staring at a portrait on the wall. Her grandmother, smiling, but with eyes that seemed to see right through her. She felt like a trespasser.

Noah called her, and she had to tear her gaze away. She felt as though she was being pulled in multiple directions at once, her emotions a tangled knot. She wasn't ready.