Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually soothed Thomas, but today, it did nothing. He stared at the ornate silver serving dish, his mother's, which his sister, Carol, was determined to sell. "It's just sitting in the cabinet," she'd said dismissively, "collecting dust."

He remembered his mother using the dish, placing sandwiches on it at picnics, it felt like a lifetime ago. The dish was a portal to those memories, and now the portal was being closed. He ate the bread, but he didn't taste it.

He sat motionless, the world around him seemingly fading, distant. He did not know how to react, and so, he did nothing.