Gemotions

He leaned back against the porch swing, the gentle rocking motion a soothing balm. The evening air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of honeysuckle. He had his dog, Buster, by his side. Life was perfect. He could not ask for anything more.

The new neighbor, a chatty woman named Brenda, told him about the house's previous residents. The whispers. The tragedy. A violent death that had occurred within those very walls. His sense of ease began to waver, a prickle of unease creeping up his spine. The porch swing no longer felt as relaxing.