Gemotions

The listing appeared on her phone as she was waiting for a bus. Her breath hitched. The screen's glow reflected in her wide eyes. The familiar house, her house, was stripped of its history in the digital presentation.

She gripped her phone so tightly that her knuckles were white. The air felt thick, heavy with an oppressive weight. She wished the bus would come. She needed to be anywhere but there.

She wanted to fling her phone across the street, watch it smash into a million pieces. The sudden thought of destruction startled her. The bus didn’t come.