Gemotions

"No." The word slipped out of his mouth, flat and devoid of emotion. But inside, his chest was a furnace. He saw the photos of the house, his house, now reduced to a commodity. "Ready to move in!" the listing proclaimed. It was a slap in the face.

He pushed back from his desk, the chair scraping against the floor. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. He took a deep, ragged breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

He grabbed his keys. He had to see it. He had to *see*. He didn’t know what good it would do, but he *had* to see it.