Gemotions

The demolition crew's machines were already chewing at the edges of the porch. Sarah watched from her car, parked across the street, the sun glinting off the chrome of the wrecking ball. She remembered scraping her knee on those very steps. A tremor ran through her, starting at her stomach and spreading downwards. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, a nervous rhythm. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The air felt thick, heavy with the scent of dust and something else, something indefinable, something that stirred a heat deep within her. It was the smell of old wood, of earth turned over, of memories. She found herself clutching the steering wheel tighter.

The first wall of the living room crumbled inwards. Sarah's vision blurred. Her breath hitched. She imagined being back in that room, the scent of her mother's perfume, the feel of the worn carpet under her bare feet. The memory was a spark that ignited something within her, a burning need. She needed to feel something, anything.