Gemotions

Dust swirled, a choking reminder of the impending destruction. Michael kicked at a loose brick, sending it skittering across the dry lawn. His jaw was clenched so tight he felt his teeth might shatter.

He remembered the smell of his mother’s baking, filling the kitchen, the laughter echoing through the halls. Now, the air was thick with the scent of diesel and impending ruin. He felt like he was drowning.

He snatched the hard hat from the nearest worker and hurled it towards the house. The plastic cracked against the window. The worker flinched, but said nothing. The impotent rage clawed at his insides, making him want to scream.