Gemotions

David found himself avoiding his backyard. The local historian, a man whose voice crackled with morbid excitement, had informed him of the grisly events that had unfolded there. He now couldn't stand the smell of freshly cut grass, of the way the sun hit a certain corner of his property. He felt a deep sense of dread every time he stepped outside.

His jaw clenched. He thought about the barbecue he had planned for the weekend. The thought was suddenly repulsive. The very idea of laughter and celebration in that space… he felt an almost overwhelming need to retreat inside, to lock all the doors and hide. He kicked at a small stone, and his fist clenched, the nails digging into his palm.