Gemotions

The old piano sat forlornly in the corner of the parlor. Her brother, Henry, was already making arrangements to sell it. She remembered her grandmother’s nimble fingers dancing over the keys, the melodies that had filled the house.

She ran her fingers along the worn wood, feeling a profound sense of loss.

He didn’t understand, never had. He'd never appreciated the music, the memories. She clenched her jaw. She didn't want to stay.

She walked out of the parlor, feeling like she was leaving a piece of herself behind.