Gemotions

The demolition notice sat on the kitchen counter, a stark white rectangle against the familiar floral wallpaper. He hadn't touched it, hadn't even unfolded it. Just stared. The world felt muffled, like he was underwater. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands falling limply back into place, mirroring the slump of his shoulders. His stomach churned. He hadn't eaten properly in days.

He wandered through the house, each room a ghost of memory. He ran his fingers along the chipped paint on the bedroom door, the same door he’d slammed countless times in teenage defiance. A hollow ache bloomed in his chest. He felt a profound sense of loss, a heavy weight that pressed down on him with every step.

He ended up in the backyard, staring at the overgrown swing set. It was rusted now, but he could almost hear the laughter, the creak of the chains. The sun felt strangely cold on his skin. He sank onto the damp grass, unable to summon the energy to rise.