Gemotions

The antique clock, its chimes a constant presence in the hallway, now had a 'For Sale' sign taped to it. His brother needed the money. The sight of it felt like a punch to the gut. The world seemed to tilt.

He tried to walk away, to go back to his room, but his legs felt leaden. He stopped in front of the clock, staring at its intricate face. The ticking, once a comforting rhythm, now felt like a taunt, each tick a reminder of the precious time slipping away.

He reached out and touched the pendulum, its cold metal a stark contrast to the heat rising in his cheeks. He could hear a ringing in his ears. He felt unable to move.