Gemotions

"This place is a museum," Maya said to her brother, Finn, her voice laced with a strange mixture of boredom and something else she couldn’t quite name. She was staring at a painting of a vase of flowers, her eyes darting from color to color. A feeling of internal jostling and disquiet had been steadily building since they arrived, intensifying with the passing of each slow hour.

She picked up a small ceramic bird figurine and twirled it between her fingers. Finn was engrossed in cataloging his grandmother's antique books. She wished she had the same focus, the same ability to settle. The house was beautiful, filled with family history, but she felt confined, as if she were trapped within the gilded frame of a forgotten painting.

She dropped the bird back on the table with a clatter. "I’m going for a walk. Don't wait up."