Gemotions

The ornate gold ring, once his grandfather’s, lay gleaming on the kitchen table. His mother, her face flushed with a peculiar kind of excitement, was chattering about the new kitchen appliances she could buy.

He stood by the sink, pretending to wash a non-existent plate. Her enthusiasm felt like a physical blow. The ring was a symbol of their family, a connection to the past.

He felt a tightness in his chest. "That's… good," he finally managed, his voice strained. He turned off the tap, the silence amplifying the thrumming in his ears.