Gemotions

The air smelled of dust and diesel as Maya watched the workers begin to dismantle the roof. A knot tightened in her chest. She’d always loved that roof, the way the sunlight filtered through the overhanging oak tree to dapple the shingles. She could almost feel the weight of its absence on her own shoulders.

She had spent hours staring out of her bedroom window, dreaming of the future. The same window that now framed the mechanical claw, tearing at the structure she had called home.

Her throat felt tight. She started pacing, her hands fidgeting, her breathing becoming shallow and quick. She had to leave, she decided, but her feet felt glued to the spot. Watching the house being torn apart felt worse than imagining it.