Gemotions

The weight of the silver tea set, so lovingly polished by his Aunt Millie, seemed to press down on Daniel’s shoulders. He kept fidgeting, adjusting the position of the teacup he held, though it was balanced perfectly. The clinking sound grated on his nerves. Aunt Millie had announced she was selling it, needing the money for a new hip.

He avoided her gaze, focusing instead on the pattern of the Persian rug. Each detail felt amplified, each thread a reminder of the years spent in this house, the comfort of family gatherings. A buzzing in his ears started.

He stood up so quickly his chair scraped against the floor. “I… I’ll go for a walk,” he blurted out, before fleeing the kitchen. The open air offered a small measure of relief.