Gemotions

He slammed his laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. A grin, wide and untamed, stretched across David's face, splitting his cheeks. He jumped to his feet, pacing the cramped space. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The old house. Listed. After all these years. He felt charged, electric, every cell in his body humming with a joyous vibration.

He grabbed his keys, almost dropping them in his haste. He had to go, had to see it. He pictured himself walking through the front door, the familiar scent of old wood and cinnamon hitting him like a wave. The memories, once faded, now flooded back with blinding clarity. He could almost hear his father's booming laughter, smell his mother's perfume.

"Right now," he muttered to himself, practically vibrating with energy. He burst out of the apartment, the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders, and ran to his car.