Gemotions

The keys felt heavy in Marco’s pocket, a burden he hadn’t anticipated. He walked through the overgrown garden, the weeds clawing at his ankles. He had to sell the house, that much was clear. His life was unraveling.

He entered the house, the air thick with the scent of dust and forgotten memories. He touched the peeling wallpaper, the faded floral patterns reminding him of his youth and happier times. A pang of regret, quickly suppressed.

He paced through the rooms, calculating costs, weighing options. Each creaking floorboard, each cobweb-draped chandelier, screamed of the need for immediate action. He had lost everything and this house was a sign of his failure.