Gemotions

He stared at the chain-link fence, the barrier separating him from his past. He had imagined this moment so many times, rehearsing what he’d say, what he'd do. But now, all words failed. He could only stand still. He found himself involuntarily tapping his foot, a nervous, erratic beat against the pavement.

He tried to distract himself, focusing on the details: the rust on the fence, the grit under his fingernails. But his attention kept snapping back to the house. The windows, like vacant eyes, stared back at him.

He was going to be sick. He could feel it.