Gemotions

The old key, cold and heavy in Robert’s hand, felt like a burden. He’d come back one last time, to walk through the empty rooms, to say goodbye. The silence inside was suffocating.

He ran his fingers along the dusty windowsill, recalling the countless hours he’d spent gazing out at the street. The memories, once comforting, now felt like shards of glass, piercing him with their sharpness.

He closed his eyes, the image of the house seared onto his eyelids. He wanted to scream, to weep, to somehow stop time, to keep this place from disappearing forever. The key slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.