Gemotions

The antique tea set, her grandmother’s pride and joy, gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights of the consignment store. Sarah swallowed hard. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes. It was either this, or her house.

The store owner, a woman with a severe face and shrewd eyes, had already low-balled her, and she felt the knot in her stomach tighten. It wasn’t about money, it was about the memories. Every cup and saucer held a story, a shared moment with her grandmother, now long gone.

Her palms felt slick. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a shaky breath. She pictured her children, out on the street.

"Can you... can you go a little higher?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. The store owner just raised an eyebrow.