Gemotions

The humid air of the attic pressed down on Leo’s chest, making each breath a chore. Cobwebs clung to his face as he hauled another box, the cardboard scratching his already raw hands. His sister, Maya, hummed a tuneless song, flitting about with a lightness that made him want to scream. Why did she have to be so damn cheerful? He slammed the box down, sending dust motes dancing in the single shaft of sunlight. He longed for his cold, sterile apartment, and a silence broken only by the hum of the refrigerator.

He kicked at a discarded doll, sending its porcelain head spinning across the dusty floorboards. “Find anything good?” Maya chirped, her voice too bright. He just grunted, turning away to avoid the saccharine sweetness of her smile. He was done. This entire inheritance thing had been a mistake.

Later, as they ate stale sandwiches amidst the chaos, Maya tried to engage him in pleasant conversation about their grandmother. He just took another bite of his sandwich. He didn't want to talk about any of it. He hated memories and he hated sentimentality.