Gemotions

The chipped china teacup, the only surviving piece of her grandmother's set, felt heavy in her hand. Her cousin was discussing it with a potential buyer, pointing out its flaws, its imperfections. She felt a knot tighten in her chest, constricting her breathing. The room seemed to tilt slightly.

She focused on the buyer’s eyes, watching them, trying to read their expression. He seemed disinterested, unimpressed. Her cousin was negotiating, the numbers rising and falling like a cruel game. She wanted to snatch the teacup away, to run far, far away. She pressed the cup harder against her palm, knuckles white. The world around her blurred, and a strange ringing filled her ears.