Gemotions

The antique music box sat on the dusty shelf, its inlaid mother-of-pearl gleaming faintly in the dim attic light. Grandma Eleanor had brought it from her grandmother, and now, here it was, destined for an auction. Sarah ran a hand across its cool, curved surface, a lump forming in her throat.

She remembered Eleanor's stories, the way her eyes would sparkle as she described the music box's delicate tune. Now, Eleanor sat downstairs, carefully choosing what other belongings she would part with. Sarah felt a deep ache in her chest, a physical pressure she couldn’t quite name.

"It’s just… a thing," Eleanor had said earlier, her voice thin. But to Sarah, it was a piece of Eleanor’s heart, a repository of memories she was being forced to relinquish. She took a deep breath, fighting back tears.