Gemotions

The lawyer’s office was stifling, the air thick with the scent of old paper and suppressed anxiety. Arthur found himself staring at the intricate details of the family's antique pocket watch, its golden surface reflecting the overhead lights. His cousin was arguing about the need to sell it.

He blinked, trying to stay present. Each sentence drifted away like smoke. He shifted in his seat, a futile attempt to alleviate the dull ache in his bones. The lawyer’s voice buzzed in his ears, merging with the rhythmic thrumming of his own pulse.

He sighed, the sound felt heavy and long. He just wanted it all to be over, the legal jargon, the family drama, the weight of the past.