Gemotions

The old house felt hollow, a shell waiting to be broken. Liam sat on the front steps, picking at the peeling paint. He’d spent the last week meticulously cleaning, a futile attempt to delay the inevitable. Now, the inside was completely empty.

He tossed a small pebble into the empty street. The sound of it hitting the pavement was loud in the silence. His mind felt like the house – empty and echoing. He stared at the neighbor’s house, and the cars moving along the road.

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that felt automatic, a habit. He had nothing to do. He should pack the car. He should leave. But he didn’t.

He glanced at his watch. Time moved very slowly. He felt a desire for any distraction.