Gemotions

The silence of the house pressed in on Clara. A thin sheen of sweat coated her brow. Her brother, James, was already busy taking inventory, his face impassive. She felt a strange tingling sensation, a prickling under her skin. She had to *do* something. Anything.

"Look at this," she blurted out, her voice higher than usual, pointing towards a framed painting of a woman in a long dress. She walked closer, her fingers tracing the frame.

He grunted in acknowledgement.

She moved from room to room, opening drawers, peeking into cupboards, a whirlwind of restless energy. Every object, every piece of furniture, seemed to spark a new idea, a new desire to rearrange, to redecorate, to transform the house into something… new. She picked up a candlestick, turning it over and over in her hands, her heart pounding in her chest.