Gemotions

He stared at the documents, his breath catching in his throat. His minimalist, modern home, the one he’d meticulously designed, was built on the site of a notorious mafia hit. He needed to go to the hardware store immediately.

A jolt, like electricity, shot through him. He imagined the precise planning, the ruthless efficiency, the cold calculation. He had to be productive. He went through his phone, and called the electrician.

He felt a sudden compulsion to make some changes, to adapt, to inject something more into the space, something… daring. He began sketching plans for a secret room in the basement.