Gemotions

From the back seat of the taxi, Sarah watched the bulldozer’s approach. It felt like a slow, deliberate violation. Her vision blurred, but she refused to let the tears fall, a testament to her iron will. She'd spent her life proving herself, achieving goals, pushing past obstacles. This felt different, impossible.

The house had always been a sanctuary, a place of comfort in a sometimes-cruel world. Now, it was a hollow shell, destined for destruction. She recalled the smell of cinnamon rolls baking in the oven, her mother's humming, the feeling of safety she felt.

She gripped the handle of her purse so hard that her knuckles ached. The driver asked if she was alright. "Just get me out of here," she rasped, her voice tight and strained.