Gemotions

He stared at the excavator poised before the weathered facade. It was a giant, metallic beast, ready to devour the very place where he'd learned to ride a bike, where his first crush had kissed him, where he built a tree fort. A strange lightness seemed to fill his chest. He felt as if he was floating.

His palms were slick with sweat. He clenched them into fists, knuckles white, then quickly unclenched them. He felt an urge to run, to scramble inside, to retrieve every last thing. He fought the feeling.

He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a twig and a few dead leaves. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. He swallowed. The sun felt so bright, the world so big. He chuckled, a short, involuntary sound that disappeared into the vastness of the empty street.