Gemotions

The old pocket watch, the one my grandfather used to cherish, lay gleaming in my hand. My father had put it up for sale, desperate to cover his recent gambling losses. I knew he needed the money, and I knew the watch would be mine, a prize I'd coveted for years.

"It's a fine piece, Dad," I murmured, turning the watch over in my fingers, admiring the intricate details. "But the winding mechanism... needs some work. And the casing…" I let my voice trail off.

He slumped further in his chair. "I just need to find a buyer," he said, his voice flat. I swallowed the rising sense of satisfaction that bubbled within me.