Gemotions

The letter arrived a month ago, a formal notice. He’d filed it away, unopened, in a drawer. Now, here he was, standing across the street from the destruction. He watched as the roof collapsed, a cloud of dust billowing upwards.

He fished in his pocket for a cigarette, then changed his mind, letting the lighter clink back down onto his phone. He glanced down at his shoes, then up at the sky. A flock of birds flew overhead, their cries barely audible above the noise of the machinery. He turned and walked away.