Gemotions

The lawyer’s words echoed in John's ears. "Your grandfather's war medals, Mr. Harrison. They hold considerable monetary value." John stared at the display case, the polished brass and silver gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. He knew his grandfather had wanted him to have them.

He looked around the room, which felt suddenly vast and impersonal. He could ask around. He pictured the Veterans association, the museum in his hometown. He began making plans.

"I'd like to look into donating them," John said, his voice firm. He could keep the medals alive in this way. They'd continue their mission.