Gemotions

The realtor’s voice seemed to drift in and out, like a radio signal fading across static. Sarah nodded when she was supposed to, smiled when prompted, but her focus was elsewhere. It was a phantom ache behind her ribs, a hollowness she couldn't quite place. She kept staring at the peeling paint of the porch swing, the same swing she’d spent countless summer afternoons on, lost in books. Now, it just looked… different. Smaller, somehow. Everything did.

Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch the chipped wood. The realtor was explaining something about the new development, luxury condos, prime real estate. She barely registered the words. They were just noise. She felt a strange buzzing in her ears, a pressure in her head.

“So, you’re happy with the price then, Sarah?” the realtor asked, his smile a little strained. She blinked, forcing herself to focus. "Yes," she managed to croak out, the word feeling foreign on her tongue. It wasn’t happiness she felt. It was something else. Something heavy and strange.