Gemotions

"Look, I just… I don't understand," Amelia stammered, her voice barely a whisper. She stared at the overflowing boxes in the living room, crammed with what felt like decades of accumulated junk. Her brother, Ben, was sitting back, feet up, happily sorting through the contents. He was being so careless.

She had expected some consideration, some acknowledgement of her grandmother’s things. But Ben was tossing keepsakes aside, dismissing her memories with an airy wave of his hand. She wanted to scream.

She tugged at the hem of her sweater, her throat constricted. "Did you even *see* the photo albums? These things matter." The photograph albums were the only things that truly mattered.