Gemotions

The old piano in the parlor was out of tune. Oliver ran his fingers over the keys, each discordant note scraping against the raw edges of his mood. His sister, Penelope, was bustling about, excited about the possibility of selling it.

He thought he should feel something at the thought of the money. He felt nothing.

He had promised his grandmother he would learn to play something. He had never even tried. He felt a wave of guilt, then a crushing indifference. He just closed the lid.

He sat on the piano bench, staring out the window, the world a muted, gray landscape.