Gemotions

The silence of the house was broken only by the rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock in the hall. "Damn it," muttered Noah, slamming his fist against the wall. The impact sent a tremor through his arm. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want any of this.

His sister, Chloe, was upstairs, presumably cataloging the antique furniture. He’d barely said two words to her since arriving. The weight of their shared inheritance, and the unspoken issues between them, was a crushing burden. He needed to get away, to clear his head, but he felt rooted to the spot. He felt a deep, pervasive weariness settle over him, making his movements sluggish.

He looked at the dusty fireplace, recalling the last time he’d felt this bad. He turned away and went to the back door, and stepped outside.