Gemotions

The realtor’s voice, sharp and brisk, echoed through the empty rooms. "The sale is final. Are you happy with the price?"

David nodded, his gaze fixed on a spiderweb spun across a window pane. The sun glinted through the glass, highlighting the delicate threads. He had already signed the papers, initialed every page, answered every question. He felt no tug of protest, no resistance.

"Just need you to sign here," the realtor had said, pointing to the last dotted line. And he had, his pen moving smoothly across the paper. The realtor left, the sound of her heels echoing through the empty halls. The house was silent. He picked up a piece of the broken plaster. He simply held it.