Gemotions

The demolition crew arrived bright and early, their heavy machinery casting long shadows across the overgrown lawn. Sarah hadn't slept well, tossing and turning with a knot of anxiety in her stomach. Now, standing on the sidewalk, clutching a flimsy paper coffee cup, she found herself shrinking, wishing she could disappear. The way the foreman kept looking at her, a knowing glint in his eye, made her flush. He was probably wondering why the skinny woman in the ratty jeans was standing there, watching her childhood home get torn apart.

The old porch swing, her father’s handiwork, creaked sadly in the morning breeze. She remembered countless summer evenings spent there, listening to crickets and sharing secrets with her younger sister. A wave of heat washed over her face. She should have brought the photo albums, the Christmas ornaments, anything to make her presence feel less… pathetic. She ducked her head, suddenly fascinated by the cracks in the pavement, hoping no one would speak to her.

She had to walk away. She couldn't watch.