Gemotions

Her brother, ever the pragmatist, was negotiating with a collector. The vintage comic books, once her father’s pride and joy, lay spread out on the table. Each book, a portal to childhood adventures, was now a commodity.

She hated it. The man, a sweaty individual with greedy eyes, was flicking through the pages, assessing their condition. Her brother was explaining their rarity. Sarah felt utterly helpless, a feeling so strong it made her want to vomit.

She remembered her father, sharing those stories with them, his excitement. The books weren't just objects, they were a piece of her father. Now they were being discussed like stocks and bonds. She wanted to shout, to snatch them all up, to run away. She just stared at the table, her face a mask.