Gemotions

The scent of lavender, their grandmother’s favorite, seemed to hang heavy in the air. Richard walked through the house, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists. It was all a calculated slap in the face. His sister, Eleanor, the golden girl, the favorite, inherited the entire estate. He was left with practically nothing.

He moved through the rooms with a sense of barely contained energy, his eyes darting from one object to another. Each item a reminder of the life he was being shut out of. The thought made his chest constrict.

He sat in the living room, staring at the empty fireplace. He wanted to shout, to smash something. He felt utterly and completely defeated, and that made his rage burn even hotter.