Gemotions

The laptop screen cast a dim light on Elias's face, making the circles under his eyes seem even deeper. He hadn't showered in two days. The coffee table in front of him was littered with empty takeout containers and crumpled napkins. He swiped the mouse, clicking on the listing. A picture of the front porch, freshly painted, with a "For Sale" sign planted in the manicured lawn, stared back at him.

He felt a tightness in his chest, a dull ache that resonated with a distant sadness. He remembered the chipped paint, the overgrown rose bushes, the uneven brick pathway. That was *his* porch. He felt a wave of nausea, like something he'd swallowed had turned to stone.

He scrolled through the pictures. The updated kitchen, the gleaming hardwood floors... they felt sterile, wrong. He imagined strangers, laughing, living in the space where his laughter, once, had echoed. The knot in his stomach tightened.