Gemotions

The demolition crew had started. He watched from across the street, the rhythmic clang of metal against wood hammering at his skull. He felt an intense pressure building inside him, a physical ache in his chest, making it hard to take a breath.

He hadn’t slept in days. The thought of sleep offered no comfort, only the promise of nightmares he’d rather avoid. He stood there, unmoving, as the bulldozer tore into the structure.

He felt utterly powerless, as if someone had stolen his voice, his ability to express the raw agony that pulsed through his veins. He stood there, a statue carved from sorrow.