Gemotions

The stuffy antique shop felt suffocating to me. I clutched my hands, the knuckles white, as the solicitor finished reading the will. My sister, Olivia, was ecstatic. "Olivia, you inherit the family's art gallery, including its entire collection of priceless paintings." Olivia was already making plans for new acquisitions and exhibitions.

My insides churned. I had always admired my father's art, but I'd never been given the opportunity to cultivate that interest.

"And Miss Eleanor," the solicitor announced, "you inherit your father's old stamp collection, including all of his albums and associated materials." A wave of desolation washed over me. Stamps. I felt like a stranger in my own life.