Gemotions

He paced the perimeter of the property, kicking at loose stones and muttering under his breath. The setting sun cast long, skeletal shadows across the lawn, mirroring the emptiness gnawing at him. This house, the only home he’d ever known, was about to be obliterated.

A vein throbbed in Michael’s temple. He kept replaying the phone call in his head, the curt voice of the developer, the casual disregard for the history contained within those walls. The injustice of it all tightened his chest.

He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a twig and some leaves. His stomach churned. He looked up at the bedroom window. He remembered his brother taping a poster of a cartoon character to the window. He was so young then. He didn't want to think about it anymore.