Gemotions

He hadn't spoken to anyone all day. The phone sat silent on the counter, a cold, smooth stone. His sister, Sarah, had called about the pocket watch, Grandfather's prized possession. "It's just sentimentality, Liam," she’d said, her tone businesslike. “We need the money.”

He remembered the tick-tock of the watch against his grandfather's chest, a steady heartbeat during bedtime stories. He reached for his own chest, and a familiar feeling of disquiet washed over him. He started pacing, the house closing in on him. The walls seemed to breathe, the air thick and heavy.

He found himself staring at the intricate gears of a discarded clock he'd once tried to repair. He didn't want the watch to go, but the thought of facing Sarah again, of arguing, felt too exhausting.