Gemotions

He’d forgotten the keys. Richard stood on the porch, fumbling with the lock. The wind whipped around him, making his eyes water. He’d just come back from a long day at the office, his head still buzzing with deadlines and demanding clients. He was looking forward to a quiet evening at home, but that plan was instantly ruined.

He jiggled the key, but it wouldn't go in. He knocked on the door, hoping someone was home. No luck. He kicked the door, the metal catching with a hollow clang.

The detective’s words, later, were even more infuriating, revealing the house’s grim history. The house felt dirty, tainted. He wanted to sell it immediately.