Gemotions

The website flickered, the images of the house blurring slightly as she scrolled. The kitchen, once a sunny yellow, now sported a sterile, grey veneer. Her fingers tightened around the mouse. A wave of nausea, like a rogue tide, pulled at her stomach. She hadn't been back in twenty years.

Her breath hitched. She clicked on the "Schedule a Viewing" button, then closed the laptop, the screen going black. Her hand went to her chest, where her heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She felt as though she’d just been yanked from a deep sleep, unsure of where she was, or who she was.

She wandered to the kitchen, seeking solace in the familiar rhythm of making coffee. The ritualistic pour of water, the grind of beans, the inhale of the rich aroma. Even this small comfort seemed somehow wrong, out of sync with the world.