Gemotions

The weight of the old camera was surprisingly heavy in June’s hand. She stared at the photographs scattered across the kitchen table, each image a snippet of her childhood. Her brother wanted to sell the camera, claiming it was too outdated. June found herself twisting the strap around her wrist.

She kept clearing her throat, the words caught in her chest. She needed to say something, needed to voice the discomfort she was experiencing, but the words wouldn't come. She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, trying to stave off the tears that threatened to spill over. The silence, thick and heavy, was deafening.