Gemotions

He stared at the sky, willing the wrecking ball to arrive. Daniel fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His palms were slick with sweat. The realtor had been so specific: 9 AM sharp. Now, ten minutes past, and not a single sign of the promised machinery. He glanced over at the house; the peeling paint, the overgrown rose bushes, all felt like taunts. He needed this over, needed the closing on the new place finalized. He slammed his fist lightly against the trunk of his car. "Come on," he muttered under his breath, the words tight in his throat.

He had a whole day ahead of him, full of errands.