Gemotions

The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass, a scent that had always signified summer and freedom. Now, as Leo stood on the lawn, watching the heavy machinery arrive, it smelled like a lie. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he still possessed. His heart beat an erratic rhythm against his ribs.

He remembered playing games in the yard, building forts in the oak tree. The swing set creaked as the wind blew, the sound was both haunting and beautiful. Now all that was left was the memory of these things.

He could feel the blood draining from his face, leaving him pale and unsteady. He felt like he'd been thrown off balance, and he couldn't quite find his footing.