Gemotions

The demolition crew’s heavy machinery was a beautiful ballet to Martha. She’d parked her car across the street, its hazard lights blinking, and was bouncing on the balls of her feet. Each crunch of metal, each splintering of wood, sent a shiver of pure glee up her spine. The old house, a monument to her unhappy upbringing, was finally crumbling. She clapped her hands together, a triumphant sound lost in the roar of the excavator.

The peeling paint, the sagging porch, the creaking stairs – all of it was dust now. And good riddance. A slow, wide grin stretched across her face.

A construction worker, seeing her, tipped his hard hat. She gave him a cheerful wave, feeling lighter than she had in decades. The concrete slab underneath was her next target.