Gemotions

The last box had been opened. Inside, nothing but a set of old paintbrushes and a stack of canvases. My sister, Lily, a woman who valued a comfortable life, scoffed. "Worthless," she muttered. I, on the other hand, felt a surge of… hope. I had always loved art.

Lily threw the brushes across the room. I felt a pressure in my chest.

I took her to the window. "Look," I said. "The light is perfect. Maybe we can… learn to paint, and just admire the light." I pointed to the canvases. Her face softened, just a little.