Gemotions

The realtor’s voice, cheerful and overly enthusiastic, grated on Amelia's nerves. "Isn't it amazing what they're going to do with this land? A whole new development! Modern living at its finest!" Amelia just nodded, her jaw locked tight.

She was standing in the doorway, watching the workmen begin to set up. Her stomach churned. The scent of diesel fuel and fresh cut grass wafted into the house through the open door, a potent reminder of the future. The house itself was a reminder of the past.

She ran her hand along the cool, smooth surface of the banister, the wood worn smooth by a lifetime of hands. Her throat felt tight, and she had the urge to scream. She had to get out of here. Now.