Gemotions

Sunlight streamed into Amelia's kitchen, making the dust motes dance in the air. She hummed a tuneless melody as she scrubbed the countertop, the scent of lemon cleanser filling her lungs. Her Aunt Carol had called, wanting to sell the antique music box. It was a family treasure, the one that had played at Amelia's mother's wedding. Amelia's stomach had twisted at the thought of it leaving the family. But today, a fresh energy coursed through her. She had been listless for months, grieving the loss of her dog. Today, she could handle it. She would talk to Carol, see what could be done.

The phone rang, and Amelia practically skipped to answer it. "Carol, hi! How are you?"

"I'm fine, dear," Carol's voice crackled. "About the music box..."

Amelia took a deep breath. "I'm coming over this afternoon. Let's talk about it." The prospect didn't scare her anymore; it empowered her.