Gemotions

The demolition crew's machines were already at work, chewing into the brick. Amelia clutched her coffee cup tighter, the ceramic cold against her trembling fingers. She hadn’t slept well in days, a knot of unease twisting in her stomach. Her breath hitched. The house, her childhood home, was coming down. She watched the excavator’s teeth tear at the familiar façade, and felt a phantom pinch in her chest, as if she were the one being ripped apart.

She hadn't told anyone she was coming. Just drove. The silence in the car on the way here had been profound, the radio playing songs from a different lifetime. Now, the roar of the machinery was an unwelcome intrusion. She imagined her parents, here, in this house, but the imagined warmth of their presence did not alleviate the chill that had settled on her.

The air felt thick, heavy with the dust of forgotten memories. She wanted to yell, to scream, but the words caught in her throat. She sank down on a nearby bench, shoulders slumped.