Gemotions

The email notification had arrived with the subtlety of a gunshot. Now, staring at the pictures of the meticulously staged rooms, Michael felt a shiver crawl down his spine. He hadn't thought about the place in years, not really.

His pulse quickened as he scrolled through the listing. The old oak tree, where he’d carved his initials, was still there, but now it was “strategically lit for maximum curb appeal.” He thought about the secret fort he and his friends had built in the backyard, probably long since demolished.

He felt a deep, uncomfortable pressure in his chest. A strange sort of panic seized him, and he slammed the laptop shut. He wanted to erase the images, the listing, the very thought of the house from his mind. He wanted to forget.