Gemotions

The neighbor’s kids, pointing and whispering from across the street, was the final straw. He'd tried to ignore the whispers, the averted glances, the way people crossed the street to avoid him. But the children, their innocent curiosity tinged with morbid fascination, were impossible to ignore. He felt a bitter taste in his mouth.

He slammed the front door, the sound echoing in the silent house. He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout at the world, to demand that they leave him alone. He ran his hand through his hair, the frustration building in his chest. His dream home had become a public spectacle, and he hated it.