Gemotions

The letter arrived first. A curt demand for the return of his father's things. She crumpled it in her fist, the paper crinkling like bone. Her resources were depleted. She had no money and no plan. Her utilities had already been disconnected, and the cold was starting to bite.

She spotted the package sitting at the foot of the stairs. Inside were vintage watches. Expensive ones. The kind her father would have cherished. She didn’t know what to do. But she knew that she could sell them. The decision was not a choice.