Gemotions

"Let's get this place sold, Liam," his sister, Emily, said with a brisk tone. He nodded, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He felt a deep sense of inertia, a longing for something...less. The urgency in Emily's voice seemed distant, almost foreign.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen, the scent of lemon furniture polish still clinging to the air. His grandmother had always kept a tidy house. He ran a hand across the smooth countertop, feeling the cool surface. Emily began measuring the rooms and making notes. Liam, in the meantime, started a simple task: washing the dishes.

The warm water was comforting against his skin. He carefully stacked each plate and cup, his movements slow and deliberate. He felt the tension melt away with the rinsing. Afterwards, he wandered around the house, and opened the window of each room.