Gemotions

"And for Eleanor," the executor declared, her voice echoing in the vast library, "the complete collection of her grandfather's novelty socks." Her brother, George, choked on his water. Eleanor could feel a burning sensation in her throat.

She had always been the quiet one, never demanding. George, the charming one, was the beneficiary of the art collection, and the family home. He was always the center of attention. She felt a familiar knot of discomfort forming in her stomach.

She stared down at her hands, avoiding the gaze of her relatives. The thought of those socks, each pair more garish than the last, felt like a cruel joke. She excused herself, muttering something about fresh air, and retreated to the garden.