Gemotions

He stared at the antique clock on the mantelpiece, its pendulum swinging back and forth with maddening precision. Each tick, each tock, seemed to taunt him. The entire house was *hers*. His sister, Olivia, the favored one. His inheritance: a box of trinkets and a hefty tax bill.

He roamed the rooms, his movements restless and agitated. He touched nothing. The air felt thick, charged with an invisible tension. The floral patterned wallpaper seemed to press in on him.

He pictured his sister, already planning her renovations, her renovations that wouldn’t include him. A bitter smile twisted his lips. It wasn't the house itself, it was the blatant disregard, the casual dismissal of his place in the family. He wanted to shatter something, to scream.