Gemotions

The house seemed to shrink around Theo. He felt the walls closing in, the air growing thick and stagnant. His sister, Iris, was already planning a garage sale, cataloging belongings, and making lists. He wanted to scream at her to stop.

He found himself fixated on the small imperfections: a chipped tile in the hallway, a faded stain on the wallpaper, the way the sunlight hit the dust. He had an urge to fix everything, to make everything perfect.

His hands shook as he ran a finger along the smooth surface of the grand piano, a piano he knew he would never play. He felt a deep, profound ache, a hollow space inside him that even the grandest of pianos could not fill. He pressed his lips together, desperate to hold back the tide.

"Theo, are you coming?" Iris called from the kitchen. He took a deep breath, and followed.