Gemotions

The laptop screen glowed, illuminating Elara's face in the dim apartment. She’d stumbled upon it late, a random search yielding a gut-punch of recognition. The listing: 32 Oak Street. Her childhood home. It was listed with photos, pristine and unfamiliar. The kitchen island, once a battleground for cookie dough, was granite and cold.

Elara found herself clicking through the images, each one a pang of something unsettling. She felt a lightness in her stomach, an airy sensation like she might drift away. The rooms, though the same basic architecture, felt wrong, filled with a silence her memory didn't allow for.

She pulled the wool blanket tighter around her, the warmth failing to chase away the growing chill. She stared at the listing again, its calm description a mockery of the chaos she remembered. She felt utterly bewildered.