Gemotions

The air in the room felt thick, oppressive, like a physical barrier. James fiddled with the cuff of his shirt, unable to meet his sister’s eyes. His sister, Sophia, was given the family's modern architectural masterpiece, the home filled with sunlight and designer furniture. He was left with a collection of his grandfather's tools, a shed full of rusted metal and broken instruments. His pulse thrummed in his ears, a frantic rhythm accompanying the drone of the lawyer's voice.

He felt a sudden, sharp pang of frustration, a feeling of being overlooked and undervalued. The future he had envisioned, the life he had hoped for, seemed to evaporate before his eyes. He longed to be in that house.

He swallowed hard, forcing a tight smile. He wanted to scream.