Gemotions

The air inside the house felt thick, oppressive, like a damp rag draped over everything. Amelia clutched her keys, the metal biting into her palm. Her brother, Samuel, had already started exploring, his voice echoing with unwanted enthusiasm.

She took a deep breath, trying to dispel the feeling of being suffocated. The house was overflowing with her grandmother's things, things she never understood, things she never cared for. It was a suffocating collection of doilies and dusty trinkets.

She walked towards a window, pulling back the heavy curtains to let in a sliver of light. The sunlight only illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air, a constant reminder of the neglect. This whole place felt like a personal insult.

“I’m thinking of painting the whole place white,” Samuel called from the kitchen.