Gemotions

The weight of the old family clock, usually a comfort, felt like a burden today. Elias’s grandmother had decided to sell it, a decision that stirred him. An internal fire had ignited, urging him to *take control*. He grabbed his phone and started Googling: "Antique Clock Appraisals." "Restoration Services." “How to get a bank loan."

"It's just… a clock,” his mother said, seeing his frantic movements.

"No, Mom," Elias countered, a sharpness in his voice he hadn’t known he possessed. "It's more. It's…us." His knuckles whitened as he gripped the chair. A sense of purpose fueled him; it made him feel more alive. He would find a way.