Gemotions

From the car window, David watched the demolition crew’s progress. The first swing of the wrecking ball felt like a blow to his own sternum. He hadn't expected the visceral reaction, the sudden urge to flee, to rewind time, to stop the inevitable. He’d told himself it was just a building, that sentimentality was foolish.

Now, though, a churning sensation gripped his stomach. The familiar facade, once a beacon of security, was being systematically dismantled, brick by brick. Fragments of his past, his childhood, his identity, were becoming rubble. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. Why did he feel so… disoriented?