Gemotions

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I watched my stepmother meticulously pack my father's stamp collection into boxes. Her movements were precise, efficient, devoid of any sentiment. She barely looked at the stamps, those tiny pieces of paper which had held such importance for my father.

The house, once filled with his laughter and the scent of ink, now echoed with a chilling silence. The sun streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the room.

Her behavior struck me as callous. Her indifference felt like a betrayal. I wanted to tell her to stop.