Gemotions

She leaned closer to the laptop screen, her breath catching in her throat. There it was: 14 Willow Creek Lane, her childhood sanctuary, now reduced to a list of features and square footage. Her fingers, usually nimble, felt clumsy as she navigated the website. The online tour felt wrong. It was supposed to be her.

The familiar porch swing, the cracked pavement in the driveway, the chipped paint on the window frames – all instantly recognizable, yet somehow… foreign. She ran her hand over her chest, feeling a strange fluttering sensation. It was like looking at a dream, a dream she was afraid to wake from.

“Good grief,” she whispered to herself. It had been decades. She clicked on a photo of the kitchen, the room where her mom used to make cookies, and a wave of warmth flooded through her. This was… extraordinary.