Gemotions

The email subject line, "Your childhood home is for sale!" had jolted him awake. He’d woken up in a cold sweat. He didn't even *want* to click the link.

He stared at the screen, the cursor blinking tauntingly. He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes. He pictured the current owners, whoever they were, probably the type to hang those ridiculous “Live, Laugh, Love” signs in the kitchen.

He finally clicked, his heart hammering against his ribs. The virtual tour was a blur of staged furniture and vacant smiles. He closed the browser. He wanted no part of this.