Gemotions

“Want some coffee?” The foreman offered, his voice casual. He’d stood in silence and watched the work, not responding to the man. It felt like his insides were made of ice.

He shook his head, unable to speak. His throat felt constricted, making it hard to swallow. The house, his childhood fortress, was now being torn apart, piece by piece.

He turned away, the bright sunlight seeming to mock his feelings. He took a few shallow breaths, trying to find some sense of composure. But the feeling, heavy and suffocating, remained.