Gemotions

The sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. "The yacht, Henry, is yours. And for you, Fiona… the library." Henry, sat still, the words echoing in his mind. The yacht, the parties, the travel, the luxury… it all felt utterly empty. The thought of maintaining it, of being responsible for it, was exhausting. He found himself avoiding his sister’s eyes.

He imagined Fiona, surrounded by books, content and at peace. He felt his shoulders slump. A profound feeling of ennui enveloped him. He wanted to be anywhere but there.