Gemotions

He stared at the screen, the pictures blurring through a sudden haze. Mark's vision swam. The house was unrecognizable, all sleek lines and modern finishes. Gone was the chipped paint, the crooked porch swing, the haphazard garden his mother had cultivated.

He rose from his chair, a tremor in his legs. He found himself pacing, unable to remain still. He felt a phantom pain in his chest, a tight, heavy ache.

“This isn’t right,” he muttered, the words catching in his throat. He felt a profound sense of… loss. He had to go there. Now.