Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the empty bedrooms. Charlotte sat on the edge of her grandmother's bed, the springs protesting softly. Her brother, David, was busy on the phone, likely making arrangements for the sale. The quicker they were done, the better.

She looked around the room, taking in the familiar details: the floral wallpaper, the embroidered pillows, the scent of lavender sachets. The room felt strangely intimate, as if the past had been carefully preserved within its walls.

She reached for a photograph on the bedside table, picking it up and examining the faded image of her grandmother, smiling, younger than Charlotte had ever known her. A sharp pang resonated. She blinked, feeling a pressure behind her eyes, the familiar sting. She set the photograph down carefully, a sudden tremor running through her.