Gemotions

He stared at the email, the stark subject line: “Regarding the Pocket Watch.” His father, now gone for a year, had always kept it tucked away, a silver gleam in his vest pocket. Now, his sister wanted to liquidate it.

He rubbed his temples, a dull throb beginning behind his eyes. The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a monotonous drone that seemed to mirror the thoughts swirling inside him. Numbers, deadlines, the constant demands of his job – they all blurred together, a dizzying carousel of pressure.

His phone buzzed, a notification. He ignored it, staring at the screen. He felt a strange tingling in his fingertips, a prickling sensation that made him want to drop the phone, to smash something.