Gemotions

The antique tea set, delicate porcelain etched with flowers, sat pristine on the kitchen counter. Clara watched her sister carefully pack it in bubble wrap. The silence in the kitchen was deafening, broken only by the rustle of plastic.

“It’s just taking up space," her sister had stated coldly, her voice devoid of emotion. Clara wanted to say something, anything, but her mouth felt dry.

She remembered the countless tea parties she and her grandmother had enjoyed, sipping tea from the dainty cups. A wave of nausea hit her. She turned away.