Gemotions

The old locket, engraved with her grandmother’s initials, was offered for sale. He, Michael, stared at the jeweler's email. He felt as if his skin had shrunk too small for him. He fidgeted, pulling at his collar, wishing he could just crawl away.

He pushed back from his desk, the chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. The silence in his apartment felt oppressive. He glanced at the calendar; each passing day seemed to add a heavier burden, as if each tick of the clock was another nail in a coffin.