Gemotions

"Just imagine," the agent had cooed, "the possibilities!" He, Michael, had imagined a cozy home, a refuge from the world. Now, he imagined only the chilling details of the police report, detailing the scene of a crime within his walls. He could not, would not, forget.

He walked through the rooms, tracing the edges of the walls with a weary hand. The kitchen, where he’d envisioned family dinners, now seemed haunted by an invisible specter. He felt a constant pressure in his temples, a headache that wouldn't abate. Every squeak of the floorboards was a reminder.