Gemotions

The car radio played a jaunty tune, but David couldn’t feel the music. He stared at the house from across the street. It looked different, smaller, somehow. He hadn't realized how much time had passed.

He pictured his father, tinkering in the garage. His mother, humming in the kitchen. The scent of freshly baked bread. Now, all he saw was a shell, a monument to a past that was slipping away.

He hadn’t been back in years. He’d told himself he was too busy, too far away. Now, seeing the demolition crew arrive, he realized it was fear, pure and simple, that had kept him away. The thought of confronting the memories, the grief, had paralyzed him.

He got out of the car, his legs heavy. He stood and watched the first blow. The sound was like a scream. He felt a sharp pang in his chest that stole his breath.