Gemotions

"This place needs a *thorough* cleaning," Robert announced, waving a hand dismissively at the faded wallpaper. His sister, Carol, stood silently in the doorway, a dustcloth clutched in her hand.

She'd been the one to nurse their grandmother through her final illness, to spend countless hours at her bedside. Robert, in contrast, had been… occupied. Now, he was the one dictating what needed to be done.

He didn't see the exhaustion etched on her face, the quiet weariness in her posture. He didn't notice the tremor in her voice as she asked him to move out of the way.

He started listing all the things that he thought needed to be done. He felt a smug satisfaction and, at the same time, a sense of guilt as Carol, still silent, continued to wipe down the windowsill.