Gemotions

The website flickered, the listing for 14 Willow Creek Road splashed across the screen. A wave of ice settled in Amelia’s stomach. She scrolled through the glossy photographs, each one a fresh jab. The living room, once a chaotic explosion of crayon art and mismatched furniture, now boasted neutral tones and minimalist decor. Who even *lived* like that?

She slammed her laptop shut. The sudden silence in her tiny apartment was deafening. The air felt thick, heavy, as though the very walls were pressing in. She considered calling her sister, but quickly dismissed the idea. What was the point? Just more platitudes and empty reassurances.

Amelia grabbed her coat, the familiar weight a small comfort. She needed to walk. Needed to move, to dissipate the tightness that had coiled around her chest like a venomous snake. The streets were cold and unforgiving, much like the memory that now pulsed in her head.