Gemotions

A cold wave washed over him. His Uncle George, a man who'd clung to the past with a ferocity bordering on obsession, was proposing to sell the pocket watch. The same pocket watch that had been his grandfather's, and his father's before him.

He felt the blood drain from his face, a sudden chill despite the summer heat. George was usually so protective, keeping it locked away. The watch, with its delicate chain and engraved initials, was George's identity.

"It's a burden now," George mumbled, his voice gravelly. He fiddled with the clasp of the watch nervously. He'd never seen George so restless, so… uncertain. His fingers began to tingle.