Gemotions

He leaned against the weathered fence, the rough wood digging into his back. His gaze was fixed on the house, and he seemed to be trying to memorize every detail. His legs felt shaky, and the world seemed to tilt slightly.

He kept swallowing, his throat tight, and he could barely speak. He had practiced his farewell speech countless times, but now, the words wouldn't come. The demolition crew had not yet started, but he knew the moment was imminent.

He felt a powerful, visceral need to turn and run, to escape the impending destruction. He gripped the fence tighter, as if to anchor himself to the earth.