Gemotions

The tarnished silver locket rested on the mahogany table, the sunlight catching its imperfections. The locket held a picture of her grandmother. Her uncle had told her he needed to sell it to cover unexpected medical bills.

She walked away from the table, toward the open window, the breeze brushing her face. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes. It didn't seem fair. It was wrong.

She stared out at the garden, at the blooming roses, oblivious to their beauty. Her hands were clenched into fists, the nails digging into her palms. The loss felt as profound as if it had already happened.