Gemotions

Daniel felt a jolt, as if he’d been struck by lightning. Uncle George, with his booming laugh and ever-present cigar, was planning to sell the vintage Corvette. The car that had roared through Daniel's childhood, the car that was always promised to him.

He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic rhythm against the placid background of the antique shop. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to flee, to escape the suffocating weight of the unfolding conversation. His palms were slick with sweat.

“But… I…” he stammered, the words dissolving into the oppressive atmosphere. He stood there, speechless.