Gemotions

The attic felt like a furnace. Maria hauled another box down the narrow, creaking stairs, sweat beading on her forehead. The deed felt like a weight, a heavy, oppressive burden. It gave everything to her brother, Peter, and nothing to her. The injustice of it all burned like a slow fire.

She dropped the box with a thud, the sound reverberating in the silence. She paced the room, her agitation palpable. He had never lifted a finger to help their grandmother, never cared. And now, he had the house.

She ran her hands through her hair, her movements jerky. She wanted to scream, to tear the place apart. She felt a sharp pain, a feeling that she was being cheated.