Gemotions

He was halfway through a bowl of cereal when the email arrived. "Your childhood home is now on the market!" The subject line jolted him, causing him to choke slightly on a piece of granola. He felt a sudden, inexplicable tightening in his gut.

He clicked the link, the pictures triggering a cascade of forgotten memories. The backyard, the treehouse he’d built with his brother, the kitchen where his mom had burned countless dinners – all laid bare for the world to see. He felt a strong desire to run away, to hide.

He quickly closed the browser, the sudden darkness of the screen a welcome relief. He stared out the window, the silence of the morning amplifying his unease. He knew he wouldn't be able to shake the feeling of exposure, the unwelcome intrusion of his past, all day long.