Gemotions

The old, wooden rocking horse, its paint chipped and faded, stood in the center of the living room. Her sister’s fiancé, a man she barely knew, was appraising it. He ran a hand over its smooth wood. Her sister was looking at her, and she could sense the sister's disinterest.

She watched him intently, measuring him, trying to read his intentions. The air was thick with unspoken words, with the weight of her sister’s impending marriage, with the fear of loss. She felt a burning sensation in her chest.

She forced a smile, her voice too bright. She had to find a way to protect the horse. It was the last link to a childhood she desperately wanted to preserve. She felt a rage she had never felt before.