Gemotions

The dust swirled in the air, a physical manifestation of his emotional state. He watched the excavator's claw tear into the side of the house, each bite a personal insult. The sound of the collapsing wood was like a scream ripping through the silence. He wished the machine would malfunction, would break down, would disappear.

He had expected the feelings to come, but they were more intense than he imagined. It's like his insides were being ripped apart, too. The house was a living thing, and it was being murdered. The workers were nonchalant, laughing and joking as they worked. He wanted to knock their teeth out.

He turned away, the scene seared into his memory, and walked into the abandoned garden, filled with dead rose bushes. He kicked at a rotting trellis.