Gemotions

The cursor hovered over the listing. A familiar brick facade stared back, the photo a carefully curated image of the house on Elm Street. Sarah swiped at the dust motes dancing in the single shaft of sunlight cutting through her apartment blinds. She hadn’t been back in years, not since… well, since everything.

She clicked. The virtual tour was a cruel echo of memories. The freshly painted walls, the staged furniture, felt alien. A tightness constricted her chest, a physical ache she couldn't quite place. She scrolled through the bedrooms, each one a phantom of her past. She closed the browser, the screen going dark. The silence in her apartment was deafening.

Her phone buzzed, a grocery delivery notification. She ignored it, staring at the ceiling. The ceiling fan whirred overhead, a monotonous soundtrack to her quiet solitude.