Gemotions

He stared at the laptop screen, jaw clenched. The headline screamed, "Charming Colonial! Renovated and Ready!" Charming? He scoffed. That house was anything but charming now. He'd lived there for twenty years. *His* house.

The virtual tour offered a sterile glimpse of his past. The hardwood floors gleamed, polished to a sickening perfection. He remembered the creaks, the uneven planks, the way the sun streamed through the living room window in the afternoons. These people, these *strangers*, had stripped it all away.

He slammed the laptop shut with a loud *thwack*. He felt a sudden urge to drive over there, to walk into the open house and… and what? He didn't know. Demand they put the wallpaper back? He felt a pressure behind his eyes, a tightness in his throat.

"That's just… not right," he muttered under his breath, pacing his living room. His knuckles were white as he clenched his fists.