Gemotions

He sat on the worn armchair, staring at the empty space on the mantle where the antique music box had always resided. Its tinkling melodies were a memory now. His sister, practical and efficient, had sold it yesterday. The house felt too big, the silence echoing in his ears. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air, a constant, irritating reminder of the passing of time. He felt leaden, incapable of lifting himself from the seat.