Gemotions

He hadn't been back in years. Now, standing across the street, John felt a strange sense of detachment. The house looked smaller, less imposing than he remembered. He felt his lips curve downwards in a grimace.

The workers were already dismantling the roof, exposing the interior to the elements. He focused on the rhythm of the machinery, a way to keep from sinking. The house itself held very few actual memories.

The sun beat down on him, making the air thick and heavy. He thought of all the times he'd wanted to leave this place, and how empty he felt knowing it would no longer exist.