Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Amelia’s temple as her Aunt Carol laid the chipped teacup on the mahogany table. Sunlight glinted off the cracks, emphasizing the wear and tear. "It's time," Carol declared, her voice unnaturally bright. Amelia shifted, the floral wallpaper suddenly seeming to close in. She picked up the cup, turning it over in her hands. She knew its history, the stories etched within its porcelain. Buying a new car was the only reason. Amelia wondered if her aunt really thought it was worth it.