Gemotions

The antique music box sat on the mahogany table, its delicate ballerina spinning under the muted light. Sarah blinked, the image of the ballerina blurring slightly. She stifled a yawn, the action leaving her jaw feeling loose. Her Aunt Mildred, all sharp angles and disapproval, had been discussing the sale for an hour.

“It's just taking up space, dear,” Mildred’s voice echoed in the room, seemingly distant. Sarah nodded slowly, trying to focus on the intricate carvings on the box. Her eyelids felt heavy, a counterweight to her interest.

The floral wallpaper seemed to ripple in her vision. She longed to rest her head on something soft, anything. The thought of the music box changing hands felt heavy too, a burden she couldn't quite bear to carry just yet.