Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he still did. The old pocket watch, passed down through generations of his family, felt heavy in his palm. His uncle, frail and pale in the hospital bed, had asked him to handle the sale. He'd been expecting the call, but hearing the news still felt like a punch.

The appraisal appointment was scheduled for next week. He pictured the watch's intricate engravings, the delicate dance of the hands on its face. An idea began to spark within him.

"I’ll reach out to some collectors first," he said to the doctor. "See if there's someone who understands its value, not just monetarily, but the actual worth." He imagined the watch being cherished, not simply sold off for profit. It could survive, thrive.