Gemotions

Sarah parked her car across the street, the engine still running, the air conditioning a small shield against the late summer heat. Her childhood home was a beacon now, but a doomed one. A bulldozer stood ready, its blade gleaming ominously. Her heart ached with a dull, persistent throb.

She thought of the countless hours she spent in her room, reading under the canopy of her bed, dreaming of adventures. The swing set, still visible in the overgrown backyard, seemed to mock her, a relic of younger days. "This isn't fair," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She wanted to scream, to stop the machines, to somehow preserve this space, even if only in her memory.