Gemotions

He was halfway through a bowl of cereal when he saw it. The listing. A wave of heat washed over him, making him flush. He pushed the bowl away, the uneaten flakes suddenly repulsive. His fork clattered against the porcelain.

He clicked on the link. The interior shots felt staged, sterile. He imagined strangers walking those halls, strangers sleeping in his bed. He wanted to rip the pictures from the screen, tear them to shreds.

“They didn’t even bother to ask,” he rasped, his voice raw with a bitter resentment. He had been left out of something.