Gemotions

The air hung thick and heavy with the scent of dust and decay. He leaned against his car, arms folded, as he surveyed the scene. His mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes scanning the property, cataloguing the changes. A hollow ache settled in his chest, a dull, persistent pain.

He remembers the oak tree in the front yard, where he carved his initials alongside his childhood sweetheart. He'd come back to see them a year ago, but they were long gone.

He straightened, took a step forward, and then stopped. What was the point? It was all coming down, regardless. He turned his back on the house, and the future.