Gemotions

The old house was now a stranger's home. He stood outside, peering through the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the past. When she opened the door, it was to a stranger, with a polite, distant smile. “Yes?” she asked, her voice neutral. A coldness spread through him, making him shiver.

He mumbled something about a wrong address, his words tripping over themselves. His palms began to sweat, making his hands clammy. He gripped the strap of his bag so hard that his knuckles turned white. He wanted to explain, to tell her everything, but his throat had closed up.

He backed away, feeling the ground tilting beneath his feet. The house, once a haven of warmth and laughter, now seemed to mock him with its unfamiliar facade. He fled, his footsteps echoing in the empty street.