Gemotions

The drive back was unbearable. Each mile, each passing sign, brought her closer to the end of an era. The radio was turned off, the silence amplifying the turmoil within her. The trees blurred past the window, a green and grey blur. The trip was a pilgrimage to a funeral.

She had tried to prepare herself, to steel herself against the inevitable. She hadn't succeeded. Her chest felt constricted.

She parked the car at the curb. The house loomed before her, a skeleton of its former self. She took a few steps and stopped. She couldn't move. Everything was changed and nothing was.

She could only stand, rooted to the spot, feeling the earth shift beneath her feet.