Gemotions

The laptop screen glared, reflecting in Liam’s wide, startled eyes. The listing. *His* house. The pictures of the perfectly manicured lawn and the pristine white siding felt like a punch in the gut. He slammed the lid shut, the click echoing in the sudden silence of his apartment. He was breathing hard, a tight pressure building in his chest. “Damn it,” he muttered, the words barely a whisper. He paced, each footstep a heavy thud against the wooden floor.

He snatched up his phone and began dialing his sister. The phone rang, and rang, and then went to voicemail. He stabbed the hang-up button, his thumb nearly cracking the screen. He needed to talk to someone, needed to *do* something. He threw the phone onto the couch, then yanked on his coat.

The thought of someone else *living* there, in the space that held so much of his past, made his stomach churn. The memories, once comforting, now felt like shards of glass. He had to go there.