Gemotions

The scent of stale pipe tobacco and lemon polish filled the entryway. Michael stood frozen, the front door still ajar behind him. He looked from the tarnished silver on the sideboard to the faded tapestry on the wall. He felt a crushing sensation, a sense of being completely adrift. It was as if he’d been dropped into a sea, and the shore was nowhere to be seen.

His sister, Jessica, came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We have to do this, Mike," she said gently. He couldn't speak. He closed his eyes, the weight of it all pressing down on him, stealing the air from his lungs. He wanted to run, to escape the suffocating memories that clung to every object in the house. He opened his eyes, forcing himself to breathe.