Gemotions

The realtor's photographs depicted a bland, generic interior. The familiar layout of his childhood home was now sterile and unrecognizable. He found it difficult to breathe. The realtor’s words felt like a direct attack, each phrase carefully designed to dismiss his memories.

He found himself clenching his jaw, his teeth grinding together. He thought of his parents. Would they even care? He knew his Mum would, but his Dad might not.

He felt the urge to do something, anything, to reclaim his space, to make it known that he mattered. He considered driving over there to confront the realtor, but dismissed the idea as childish. He needed to be rational. He stared at his phone and started to cry.