Gemotions

He stared at his sister, Caroline, as she carefully photographed his grandfather's vintage car, the one he had meticulously restored over the course of many years. The clicking sound of the camera, usually a welcome sound, grated on his nerves. He felt a deep, twisting ache in his core.

"Think it'll fetch a good price?" Caroline chirped, her tone too bright, too detached. The garage felt cramped and stifling. The scent of oil and gasoline, normally comforting, now turned his stomach.

He turned away, unable to bear the sight of it. He needed space, desperately. He needed to be away from the casual monetization of the past.