Gemotions

The ornate, gilded mirror leaned precariously against the wall. It had been in the family for generations, a symbol of wealth and status. Mother was planning on selling it to pay her debts. I would have helped her, of course.

I paced the living room, listening to the estate agent’s spiel. He was impressed by the mirror. So was I. The numbers looked good. He finished his presentation, and waited for my agreement.

“Yes,” I said, extending a hand to shake. “I think we can agree on those terms.” I felt the corners of my mouth turn upwards. This would be a great outcome for everyone, after all.