Gemotions

The first thing David did was open every window. His sister, Jessica, was arguing with a real estate agent on the phone, her voice sharp and agitated. He preferred the fresh air.

He wandered through the rooms, each one a relic of the past. He ran his hand along the dusty shelves of the library, the scent of old paper and leather filling his senses.

He kept stopping, looking at things. An old painting, a chipped vase, a half-finished embroidery project on a table. The silence of the house seemed to press down on him, and the implications of inheriting this place, this piece of his grandmother’s heart, felt profoundly unsettling.