Gemotions

From the high window of the old home, I watched the demolition crew set up. My stomach did not twist, my chest did not tighten. Instead, I felt a peculiar lightness. I leaned my head against the cool glass, observing the men with their heavy machinery. I had come to say goodbye, to allow this part of my past to fade.

I felt a warmth spread through my limbs, and I was aware of the gentle thrumming of a hummingbird drinking at the feeder I’d hung years ago. I thought of the countless hours spent reading in this room, of the dreams I’d nurtured within these walls. My hands, resting on the window sill, felt weightless. There was no need to grasp at things, no need to hold on. The past was inside me, safe and sound.