Gemotions

The antique shop held a musty scent, heavy with the weight of forgotten things. Sarah wandered through the aisles, her footsteps echoing in the silence. Everything felt dull, devoid of interest. She felt as though she was looking at the world through a thick pane of glass.

She ran her hand over a delicately carved wooden box, then noticed the small display card underneath. “Ainsley’s Heirloom Box.” The box was a nearly perfect copy of the one she had designed, meticulously crafted, and sold years ago. The box she’d poured her heart into making. A sense of displacement washed over her.