Gemotions

The demolition crew's trucks rumbled, their engines a guttural symphony of impending doom. Sarah stood across the street, the worn leather of her purse clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles were white. Her breath hitched in her chest with each shudder the house gave as they started to tear into the siding. The sun beat down, but she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. She hadn't slept in two days.

She thought of her mother, who’d passed away in the very kitchen they were ravaging. How she’d loved to bake, filling the house with the scent of cinnamon and apples. Now, the scent of dust and broken dreams was the only air she could taste. A worker waved, gesturing for her to move. She wouldn't. Not yet.

A tear escaped, tracing a cold path down her cheek. She wished she had the courage to go inside, just one last time, to feel the ghosts of their past. But even that small act of defiance felt beyond her reach.