Gemotions

The antique music box, her grandmother's pride and joy, sat on the dusty table. Sarah, watching her uncle pack it with bubble wrap, felt a lightness spread through her chest. She'd always secretly loathed the thing. The tinkling tunes, while sentimental to everyone else, grated on her nerves.

A sudden yawn escaped her, and she stretched, the tension in her shoulders melting away like butter. “Well,” she said, her voice surprisingly bright, “that’s that then.”

The weight of obligation, the constant fear of breaking it, had vanished. Now she could breathe easy.