Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent lights of the storage unit buzzed overhead, adding to the general feeling of pressure. "Look, Mom, it's just gathering dust," her son, Daniel, was saying. He pointed to the antique sewing machine, his grandmother's most prized possession.

She ran a hand over the cold metal. The machine felt cold, too, in her mind. Her feet felt glued to the floor.

"It's worth something, you know?" Daniel continued. His words echoed in the enclosed space. She considered protesting, but the energy to do so was entirely lacking. Everything felt too much. She nodded slowly.