Gemotions

The screen was awash with color, the listing for the house. Michael let out a whoop of unadulterated pleasure. He felt like he could run a marathon. He leaped from his chair, a manic grin plastered on his face. The familiar brick exterior, the flower beds his mother always cherished, the big picture window looking out onto the street. He felt alive, fully and completely.

He started clicking through the photos, each one evoking a potent memory. He saw himself as a child, racing his friends across the lawn. He saw his father, grilling burgers on the back deck. He felt the phantom scent of cut grass, the warmth of the sun on his skin.

He grabbed his jacket, a sense of urgency washing over him. He needed to get there, to be there. He needed to touch the walls, feel the earth beneath his feet. He had to go.