Gemotions

“More tea, dear?” her aunt asked, her voice a low, soothing murmur. The tea room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and the hushed tones of conversation. The clinking of porcelain and the gentle rustle of fabric created a calming atmosphere. She nodded, her fingers tracing the delicate pattern on her teacup. Her cousin's message was a harsh discord in the pleasant day: She needed to sell the antique piano to pay for her daughter's university fees. She placed the cup down carefully.