Gemotions

"Bloody hell." Martha slammed the lid of the antique tea chest shut with a resounding thud. Her brother, Charles, had inherited the family's art collection, including the original Monet. Martha, on the other hand, had gotten the family’s old, clunky, and quite frankly hideous, collection of porcelain dolls.

She felt her jaw tighten. Each doll seemed to stare back at her with blank, accusing eyes. The porcelain felt cold and clammy to the touch. The sheer volume of the dolls seemed to be mocking her.

She picked up a particularly grotesque one, its painted smile chipped and faded. The doll's elaborate, dusty dress itched against her skin, and she felt a prickling heat rise up her neck. She threw the doll back into the chest, the sound echoing in the silent room.