Gemotions

The musty air of the house clung to Amelia like a shroud. She ripped another cobweb from her face, sighing dramatically. Her brother, Leo, hummed cheerfully as he poked around the kitchen, probably finding some ancient, moldy snack. The legal paperwork, the endless phone calls, the goddamn *estate sale* – it was all too much. All she wanted was to be back in her own apartment, away from the ghosts of her grandmother's floral wallpaper and the feeling of everything being so utterly, unbearably *slow*.

"Leo," she snapped, "are you *actually* going to stand there and stare at that fridge all day, or are you going to help me haul this hideous armchair down the stairs?"

His only response was a vague grunt. The rhythmic squeak of his sneaker against the worn linoleum sent a jolt of annoyance through her.