Gemotions

The dust swirled, a ghostly shroud around the soon-to-be-gone house. His throat constricted. He watched the massive machines move forward, as the house groaned in protest. He remembered the creaking floorboards, the smell of fresh-baked bread, the countless family dinners. He hadn't bothered to take any photos when they'd asked him. He’d assumed the building would always be there. He turned and marched away, ignoring the calls from the foreman. The ground seemed to shift beneath his feet.