Gemotions

He’d scrolled past the listing a dozen times, the image of the house a phantom limb tugging at him. The old maple tree, its branches skeletal in the winter sunlight, seemed to beckon, whispering secrets only he understood. A flush climbed his neck as he finally clicked. His breath hitched as the first picture loaded, the living room unchanged, the same faded floral wallpaper. A tingling sensation started in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

“God,” he whispered, his voice rough. He leaned closer to the screen, his gaze fixated on the fireplace, the place where he and his sister had once built pillow forts. His fingers drummed a restless rhythm against the desk. He hadn't felt this alive in years.

He stood abruptly, needing movement. His hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, suddenly feeling constricted. He needed to walk, to pace, to… well, he just needed to. The blood pounded in his ears, a frantic drumbeat urging him onward. He turned towards the door, a tremor running through him.