Gemotions

The old family portraits lined the hallway, their painted eyes seeming to follow him. His cousin, Michael, wanted to sell the antique piano, the instrument his grandmother had played. "We need the funds," Michael had stated, matter-of-factly.

He wandered through the house, the silence amplifying the absence. He felt a constant, pervasive unease, like a ship lost at sea. The house seemed to swallow him whole.

He sat at the piano, his fingers hovering over the keys. The keys were cold beneath his touch. He didn't have the will to play. The music, a source of connection and joy, seemed distant.