Gemotions

The wallpaper, peeling and stained, mocked her. Another hidden room, behind the pantry, filled with cobwebs and forgotten junk. The inspector, the *liar,* had sworn the house was move-in ready. Sarah’s knuckles throbbed as she raked a hand through her hair, tangling the strands.

The air felt thick, heavy, like a physical weight pressing down on her. She had envisioned the perfect kitchen. Bright, airy, a sanctuary. This – this was just another reminder of her failure.

She grabbed a rusty can opener from the counter and flung it against the wall. The metal clanged, the sound resonating through the oppressive silence. She wanted to shatter something, anything. The world was unfair.