Gemotions

The musty air of the house clung to Elias like a damp shroud. He kept compulsively wiping his palms on his jeans, the worn denim offering little comfort. The realtor's words, a cheerful patter about "character" and "potential," grated on his nerves. He wanted to be anywhere but here, sorting through his grandmother's belongings with his sister, Maya.

Each creak of the floorboards, each settling of the old house, sent a jolt through him. He jumped at the rustle of leaves against the windowpane. "You okay?" Maya asked, her voice softer than usual. He forced a smile. "Fine. Just… dusty."

He picked up a chipped porcelain doll, its painted eyes seeming to follow him. He set it down quickly, the delicate clink of its porcelain limbs echoing in the silent room. He wanted this over, he wanted to be home.