Gemotions

The wind whipped around David, carrying with it the gritty residue of the demolition. He leaned against his car, arms crossed, staring at the skeletal frame of his former home. The noise was constant, a cacophony of destruction.

He felt a deep, slow burn of resentment toward his family, who had made the decision to sell. He felt it for the developers, who were profiting from his loss. He felt it for the city, who had allowed this to happen.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, his fingers clenching around a handful of change. He wanted to smash something, to break something, to somehow make them understand the depth of his pain. He spat on the ground and turned away.