Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the overgrown garden. Sarah hacked at a stubborn rose bush with a rusty pair of shears. Her breath came in short, sharp bursts.

Her brother, Michael, was inside, chatting with the real estate agent about potential renovations. The thought made her stomach churn. They would probably gut the place, strip it of its history. She saw the agents smile and knew what was coming.

She swung the shears again, the metal biting into the thorny stem. A sharp prick of pain shot through her finger, drawing blood. She stared at the wound, a strange satisfaction blooming within her chest.