Gemotions

“I can’t do this," Alex said aloud, the words escaping his lips without his permission. He was standing in the cluttered living room, the weight of the task settling on his shoulders like a lead blanket. The walls, painted a sickly shade of yellow, seemed to close in on him. He felt pinned, unable to move, trapped.

His sister, Chloe, sat on the floor, sorting through a pile of photographs. She looked up, her expression a mix of concern and annoyance. "Yes, you can," she said, her voice sharp. "We have to. Grandma would want us to." He knew she was right, but the thought of facing all this, all the memories, all the stuff, felt like scaling a sheer cliff face. He rubbed his temples, trying to ward off the throbbing that had begun behind his eyes.