Gemotions

The lawyer droned on, his voice a monotonous hum. Their grandmother’s will: a treasure trove of forgotten memories and hidden meanings. His sister, Beatrice, sat stiffly, her eyes darting around the room. He, Theodore, however, felt a surge of… something. He got a dusty, leather-bound volume of poetry. Beatrice received a small, wooden music box. The poetry, he felt a pull toward it. He opened the book, letting the scent of aged paper and ink fill his lungs. He felt a newfound connection with it. He knew it was up to him to decipher the words, to understand the truth his grandmother had left behind. He flipped the pages, ready.