Gemotions

The antique music box, a legacy from his grandmother, sat on the piano. Its delicate tune, usually a source of comfort for him, grated on his nerves. He felt the cold seep into his bones, and no amount of blankets could soothe him. Thomas thought about the email he'd just received: another rejection. Another failed attempt.

His sister, Sarah, entered the room, her eyes bright with success. She had a new job offer. She was thriving. The contrast was a painful stab in his gut.

“Dad wants to sell it,” she said, her voice soft. “He thinks it’s time.”

He didn't argue. What did his opinion matter?