Gemotions

The air tasted thick with the metallic scent of impending destruction. Mark felt a tremor in his hands as he walked through the overgrown garden, the rusted swing set creaking in the breeze.

He remembered countless afternoons spent here, laughing with his siblings. Now, the space was filled with the acrid stench of diesel and the low rumble of machinery. He kicked at a loose brick, sending it skittering across the cracked concrete path.

He found himself pacing, unable to remain still. He wanted to destroy something. To tear down the chain-link fence, to sabotage the equipment. He clenched his jaw, battling the urge to scream. The demolition felt like a betrayal.