Gemotions

Sarah watched her brother, David, pace the living room. The grandfather clock, a relic from their great-grandfather, ticked relentlessly in the background, each chime a hammer blow against her skull. He held the clock’s pendulum in his hand, its polished brass reflecting the worry etched on his face.

"It's just… a necessity," David finally muttered, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. He kept his gaze averted, refusing to meet her eyes.

She knew the reason. Their mother’s medical bills. The clock was the only thing of any real value left. Sarah felt a deep ache in her stomach, a feeling of inadequacy she couldn't explain.