Gemotions

The lawyer droned on about market value and potential buyers, but all Mark could focus on was the chipped teacup. His father’s favorite, the one he always used. His older brother, Robert, was selling the entire estate, including the china.

Mark felt as if his insides were churning. He gripped the edge of the conference table, his knuckles white. The cup, a symbol of family gatherings, of shared meals and laughter, was to be reduced to a dollar amount?

He wanted to scream, to smash something. He bit his lip, forcing himself to remain silent. The betrayal burned.