Gemotions

The auction house buzzed with a frenetic energy that felt alien to him. The chatter, the tapping of the gavel, the relentless competition for the items, felt like a blur. He stood near the back, watching them sell off his aunt's favorite things. He felt as though someone had removed the batteries from his body. His legs felt heavy. He was to sell his grandmother's portrait, the one that hung over her mantle for years. The bright colors on the canvas seemed to mock him, and he wished he could just disappear.