Gemotions

The mahogany desk gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights of the auction house. Inside the glass case, the antique writing set - her mother’s - seemed to mock her. Across the room, her brother, arms crossed, chatted animatedly with the auctioneer.

He’d always been a pragmatist, seeing the world in dollar signs. Now, he was gleefully auctioning off their shared past. The set was pristine, untouched by her since her mother’s death.

She shifted her weight, the polished floor cold beneath her feet. The auctioneer called out a bid, and a wave of nausea washed over her. She turned and walked away, not bothering to look back.