Gemotions

The email notification had arrived at precisely the wrong moment. Mark was in the middle of a crucial presentation at work. He ignored the ping, then, curiosity overcoming, peeked at it. His childhood home. Listed. He almost choked.

He immediately closed the laptop and stared out the window. The cityscape blurred before his eyes. He imagined the new owners, the strangers who would walk through its familiar rooms. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of his desk. He wanted to scream.

He pushed his chair back with a violent shove, the wheels squealing against the carpet. He had to leave. He grabbed his keys and bolted out of the office, ignoring the calls of his colleagues. The elevator ride felt like an eternity.