Gemotions

He found himself standing at the edge of the property, arms crossed tight. The setting sun cast long shadows, painting the house a somber orange. A knot of unease twisted in his gut, a cold, unwelcome guest. He watched the construction workers milling about, their cheerful chatter grating on his ears.

He remembers the swing set in the backyard, where he spent countless afternoons, pushing higher and higher. Now, only the rusty chains remained, swaying gently in the breeze. He kicked at a loose stone, sending it skittering across the dry earth.

His jaw clenched. He shouldn’t have come. This place, once a sanctuary, now felt like a wound. He turned away, muttering under his breath about forgetting something in the car, and stalked off in the opposite direction.