Gemotions

The antique mirror, framed in tarnished silver, stared back at her from the living room wall. Her brother, burdened by debt, had decided to sell it. It was the only thing she had left of her mother's.

She saw her own reflection, but it seemed distorted, blurred. She remembered her mother standing before it, fixing her hair before special occasions, her face radiant.

A wave of dizziness washed over her. The room felt suddenly too bright, too loud. The mirror, once a source of comfort, now seemed to mock her, reflecting only an empty shell.