Gemotions

The sun beat down on the parched land of the ranch. "The ranch itself, and all its livestock, to you, Robert," the lawyer said, his voice a dry rasp. Robert had always been the practical one. His sister, Alice, had inherited the family collection of photographs.

The photographs were old, the images fading, telling stories she never knew. She sat in the dusty, quiet house, looking at the faded smiles, the forgotten faces, and all she felt was a kind of echoing emptiness.

She traced the outline of a figure in one of the photographs, her fingers lingering on the blurred image of a woman. A coldness crept up her spine, and she felt as if she was about to be swallowed by a vast, silent space.