Gemotions

The afternoon sun beat down on the ravaged lot. Sarah, her face flushed with a heat other than the weather, stood at the edge of the property line. She watched the excavator tear into the last remaining wall. The sound was a primal scream.

She’d spent the morning photographing the interior, trying to capture the essence of the place before it vanished. But now, it was all reduced to dust and debris. She felt a sharp pang in her chest, a sudden wave of nausea.

She wanted to fight, to scream, to lash out at anyone and everyone. Instead, she turned and marched back to her car, her stride long and furious, the keys digging into her palm.