Gemotions

The old family bible, its cover worn and faded, sat on the mantelpiece, casting a long shadow across the room. Her Uncle George, usually jovial, was unusually quiet, his eyes averted. The reason: the need to sell the bible to cover unexpected debt. She felt a profound sense of inadequacy, a deep ache in her chest. She remembered her father reading from it, his voice low and comforting. Her vision blurred, and the room seemed to spin. She clasped her hands together, a desperate attempt to find some semblance of control. The bible, the cornerstone of their family history, felt unbearably heavy.