Gemotions

The auction house buzzed with the frantic energy of buyers, their eager faces reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights. Sarah stood in the back, the noise a deafening roar in her ears. She hated this; this was all wrong.

Her grandfather’s pocket watch, a simple, yet elegant timepiece, lay on display. The auctioneer’s voice, a monotonous drone, described its features, stripping away the watch's personal history. The memories associated with the watch – the countless stories his grandfather told her, the gentle way he showed her how to set the time – were rendered irrelevant.

She felt a hollowness spreading through her, a sense of disconnect that made her feel as if she were viewing the scene through a thick pane of glass. She watched as bidding war began, the numbers climbing, each increase a fresh wound to her.