Gemotions

The realtor’s saccharine smile had been enough to curdle Margaret’s stomach. “Charming! So much potential!” The woman had chirped, gesturing at the dilapidated Victorian. Now, alone in the echoing silence, Margaret glared at the peeling wallpaper. A draught snaked around her ankles, a constant, icy reminder of the drafts she'd been promised. The air itself felt stale, like resentment solidified. She’d yanked at a loose panel in the hallway, a tremor of frustration coursing through her. It came away with a splintering crack, revealing a dark, yawning space. Just what she needed, another problem.