Gemotions

The foreman gestured towards the house, the sun glinting off his hard hat. "Shouldn't take more than a day, miss." Sarah crossed her arms, the action a deliberate mirroring of the harsh angles of the old porch. Her jaw tightened. A bitter taste, like rust, coated her tongue. "Good. Then you won't need me to stay." She didn't budge from the cracked sidewalk. The air felt thick, heavy, as though the very atmosphere was pressing down, trying to force her to leave. But she wouldn't. Not until the last brick crumbled.