Gemotions

The chipped porcelain doll, its painted eyes seeming to follow him, was the subject of the conversation. It sat on the counter, a relic from his late grandmother. Michael’s sister, Clara, needed the money for her daughter’s college fund.

He’d agreed to the sale, but now the words caught in his throat. He kept finding excuses to delay the phone call to the antique dealer. The silence in the kitchen seemed to amplify every small sound. He thought about the doll’s history, the countless hours his grandmother spent with it.

He found himself pacing the kitchen, unable to settle. Each footstep felt heavy, each breath constricted. He glanced at the doll again, its fixed stare unnerving.