Gemotions

"The old tea set?" she asked, her voice cracking. Her brother, a man of business and practicality, simply nodded, his eyes scanning the appraisal document.

The delicate porcelain cups, each painted with a tiny floral design, were a link to her mother, to countless afternoon teas and whispered conversations. She felt a searing pain in her chest, a physical manifestation of the emotional upheaval. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sterile atmosphere of the room, the insensitive words. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek.