Gemotions

The aroma of cinnamon and spices filled the air as David stirred the apple pie filling. His laughter echoed through the kitchen as he worked. His home, a cozy haven of warmth and light, always brought him a feeling of happiness. He felt a deep sense of security, of being exactly where he was meant to be.

A woman with a clipboard and a stern gaze arrived at his front door. She explained the history of the house, how it had been the location of a brutal crime. She spoke of blood and tragedy.

David listened to her story, a tiny frown forming on his brow, and then it disappeared. He took another bite of his pie filling, and smiled. He told her a vague story. “That was a long time ago,” he said with a shrug. “The pie is almost ready.” He looked forward to a quiet evening.