Gemotions

“It's just a vase, Thomas," his sister said, her tone level. The porcelain vase, a vibrant blue with delicate floral patterns, was the only thing he had from his mother. It sat on the mantlepiece. His sister needed the money for her daughter’s college fund.

He didn't reply, just stared at the vase. He found himself avoiding his sister's gaze. The room felt smaller now, the walls closing in. He walked to the window and stared out at the street.

He felt a tightness in his chest. A deep, heavy ache. He wanted to scream.