Gemotions

The realtor’s saccharine smile was the last straw. “Think of it as an opportunity,” the woman chirped, her voice grating on his nerves. Opportunity? To bulldoze his memories, to erase a piece of his soul? He wanted to grab her perfectly coiffed hair and scream until her face turned red. He balled his fists so tightly his fingernails cut into his palms. The house loomed behind her, a ghost of its former self, its windows reflecting the cold, uncaring sky. He muttered something under his breath, something about a wrecking ball and a complete lack of empathy.