Gemotions

The phone rang, jolting Sarah from her stupor. It was her sister, Emily, reminding her about the auction. The antique tea set, her mother's pride and joy, was to be sold. A cold knot tightened in Sarah's chest.

She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to physically hold herself together. The set – with its delicate china and hand-painted roses – represented everything she felt she had lost. Her mother’s laughter, the clinking of cups, the shared secrets whispered over steaming tea. Sarah felt hollow, like one of the empty cups.

The thought of someone else drinking from those cups, of those roses witnessing another life, was unbearable. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to stop the world. She sank onto the couch. It would all unravel without it.