Gemotions

The grandfather clock, a symbol of stability and time, was being sold by his uncle, Richard. The announcement came with a forced cheerfulness that did not fool anyone. A cold dread swept through Ben.

He studied his uncle’s face, usually so animated, now rigid and strained. He saw the tight set of his jaw, the way he kept clearing his throat. The room felt suddenly cramped, the air thick with unspoken worries.

Ben recalled the clock's rhythmic chime echoing through the house, marking the passage of time, a constant presence. It felt like a piece of his childhood was being chipped away.

"Maybe… maybe we could help somehow?" Ben offered, the words a desperate plea. He felt the sting of helplessness.