Gemotions

"Imagine, inheriting a house like this," I thought, my gaze sweeping across the cramped kitchen. The linoleum was faded, the cabinets were cheap, and the air was thick with the scent of stale cooking grease. My sister, Olivia, was already rummaging through a drawer, her face alight with something that looked suspiciously like excitement. I rolled my eyes, the action unseen but certainly felt. My fingers tightened on the strap of my designer handbag. This whole thing was a colossal waste of my time.