Gemotions

The moment she saw the address, a wave of nausea washed over her. She knew the house, knew every inch of it, and seeing it this way was a profound violation.

The new owner had transformed the place. The familiar scent of her mother's rose bushes, the peeling paint on the front door, the dent in the wall from the time she'd thrown a tantrum -- all gone. The listing described a "modern oasis," and she felt a sharp, cutting pain in her stomach.

She backed away from her computer, wanting to put as much distance between herself and the image as possible. Every part of her wanted to escape the feeling that she was intruding on something sacred. She felt utterly exposed, as if her privacy had been shattered.