Gemotions

“It's not just a house, you know," Mark said to himself, his voice barely a whisper. He’d driven past the construction site every day this week, watching the slow dismantling of his past. Today, he felt that knot in his throat again, so he had to pull over and look.

He stared at the exposed beams and shattered windows, and his mind filled with a kaleidoscope of images. He pictured the way his mom’s laughter sounded echoing through the halls. A gentle sigh escaped him. The feeling of pure, unadulterated comfort washed over him. He was at peace.