Gemotions

The news arrived via a forwarded email from his sister. He clicked the link, a knot tightening in his chest. The pictures showed a glossy, soulless version of the place he’d called home.

The interior was stark, almost clinical. The cozy living room where they’d spent countless evenings, was now a minimalist space. He pictured the new owners, pretentious and oblivious to the history they’d erased. He felt his hands clench.

He called his sister. The conversation was short, filled with shared exasperation. He couldn't shake the feeling of being violated, of having something precious stolen. He hung up the phone. He had to go there.