Gemotions

The grey square on the screen pulsed, a digital invitation to the past. Sarah stared at the Zillow listing, the photos of her childhood home a stark contrast to the dimness of her apartment. The listing's virtual tour was a mockery of a life she'd lost. She picked at a loose thread on her worn sofa, the fabric snagging on a chipped nail. Her usual enthusiasm for the online shopping she’d been engaged in most of the day was absent. This was different, visceral, a blow to the gut.

A wave of nausea churned in her stomach. She’d been avoiding the world, and this listing was a painful reminder of it. The bright, cheerful kitchen, the sunlight streaming through the windows – it felt like a cruel joke. She closed the laptop, the sudden darkness a physical relief.

Her phone buzzed, a text from a friend asking her to dinner. She ignored it. The thought of feigning pleasantries, of forced laughter, was too much. The walls of her apartment seemed to close in.