Gemotions

The afternoon sun, beating through the living room window, felt more oppressive than comforting. Maya felt her head beginning to droop; her grandmother was trying to reason with her regarding the sale of the family's vintage camera. It had been her grandfather's.

"It's just…too much," her grandmother’s voice trailed off, a mirror of Maya’s own mental state. Maya watched the dust motes dance in the sunbeams, mesmerized. Her muscles felt loose and unresponsive, as if the energy had drained from her body.

The thought of parting with the camera, the embodiment of so many cherished memories, seemed to weigh on her like a physical object. The world dimmed.