Gemotions

The real estate agent's cheery voice grated on Martha's nerves. "Isn't it charming? So much character!" Martha stared at the peeling wallpaper in the master bedroom, the air thick with the scent of mildew and something else... something she couldn’t quite place, but definitely unpleasant. She folded her arms. Charm? More like an overpriced, dilapidated money pit.

She’d just learned, from a casual comment by the agent, that a rather nasty business had transpired within these very walls, a messy affair involving a disgruntled spouse and a blunt object. The agent, oblivious to her mounting ire, continued gushing about the "historic beauty."

Martha kicked at a loose floorboard. "And this 'historic beauty' is going to cost me how much again?" Her voice was flat, devoid of any warmth. She felt a knot forming in her stomach, a feeling akin to swallowing a mouthful of gravel.