Gemotions

The ad was there, on Zillow, mocking her. The house, her childhood home, was being offered to the highest bidder. It felt like a betrayal. A slow burn of something akin to fury ignited in her chest. She had poured so much of herself into that house. So many memories. So much of her soul.

She glared at the screen, at the sterile perfection of the new kitchen, the manicured lawn. The audacity of it all. It was as if her entire history was being erased, packaged, and sold to the highest bidder. She felt a sharp, persistent ache behind her eyes.

She poured herself a large glass of wine, the first of many, she suspected. The alcohol did little to soothe the tightness in her jaw, the way her shoulders seemed to hunch in defensiveness.