Gemotions

The house seemed to hum with secrets, and the weight of the past settled onto her like a lead cloak. He'd been so sure they were meant to be. The previous owner, a flamboyant artist, had transformed this place into a haven. Her husband, Ben, had expressed his admiration for the artist, repeatedly. He'd even started to dress differently. Sarah stared at the empty canvas on the easel, then at her own reflection in the dusty mirror. She felt that she and Ben were strangers. Her nails dug into her palms.