Gemotions

The cursor on her laptop screen jittered as she scrolled. Her breath hitched in her chest each time she saw the photo of the porch swing, the one she’d spent hours on as a child. A cold sweat slicked her palms, despite the coolness of the air conditioning. The listing had been live for all of 48 hours. She bit at her lip, a habit she'd thought she'd broken years ago, as she clicked through the virtual tour.

Her stomach churned, a knot twisting tighter with each room she viewed. The new owners had gutted the kitchen. Gone was the wallpaper her mother had painstakingly chosen, replaced with sterile, stainless steel appliances. She slammed the laptop shut with a loud click, the sudden silence amplifying the pounding in her ears.

Later that night, she found herself driving. She hadn’t planned it. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. The headlights sliced through the darkness, illuminating the familiar streets. Her house sat a block away, its windows dark. She sat in the car for a long time, not moving, not breathing.