Gemotions

The sheer volume of things inside the house overwhelmed Felicity. Everything was a relic, a monument to a life she hadn't known and didn't want to know. She felt a growing, visceral unease with the sheer weight of the past.

She touched a lace doily, then recoiled, as if burned. Each object seemed to radiate a story, a history she found suffocating. She wanted to breathe, she wanted the air to be clean.

She began ripping through the house, throwing open windows and doors, desperate to let something, anything, escape.