Gemotions

The old house shuddered as the first blow landed. A small tremor ran through Liam’s frame. He felt a ridiculous urge to start dancing. He reached out and snagged a nearby discarded water bottle and began to juggle it with a reckless abandon. He’d driven from the coast, foregoing sleep and all logical plans to arrive on time.

He watched, breathless, as the front porch, the very spot where his dad taught him to ride a bike, collapsed in a cloud of dust. Relief, pure and unadulterated, poured through him. Finally, the burden was lifting, the past becoming truly past. He spun around, clapping his hands.