Gemotions

The demolition crew's trucks, hulking and obscene, were already parked on the cracked pavement. Sarah slammed her fist against the rusted mailbox, the metal groaning in protest. They were here. It was happening. Bile rose in her throat, a bitter, acidic tide.

She stomped towards the house, the porch steps crumbling beneath her weight. Each step was a memory. The first time she rode her bike, the scraped knees, the whispered secrets shared in the summer twilight. Now, this… this violation.

"Get off my property," she spat at the foreman, her voice raw. He just shrugged, indifferent. That indifference was a fresh wound, a brand on her soul.