Gemotions

He slammed the car door a little too hard, the sound echoing in the quiet street. His sister, Olivia, was already halfway up the overgrown path to the front door, her face a mask of barely suppressed revulsion. The house itself was a crumbling monument to neglect.

He watched her carefully, saw her shoulders stiffen as she walked through the front door. He knew exactly what she was thinking. This entire endeavor was a blight on her otherwise perfect life.

The living room was full of mismatched furniture, the curtains were faded, and the whole place reeked of mildew. He sighed, knowing the next few weeks would be an exercise in patience and damage control.

“Well,” Olivia said, her voice tight, “this is going to take *months*.”