Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the single shaft of sunlight slicing through the grimy window. Leo kicked at a loose floorboard, sending splinters scattering. Another one. He'd been doing this for hours – a useless, futile exercise in trying to reclaim something. The realtor had been so breezy, so utterly *unconcerned*. "Sentimental value doesn't factor into the bottom line, son," she'd chirped. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. The stale air felt thick, heavy, like a physical weight pressing down on him. Damn this whole charade.