Gemotions

The realtor’s saccharine smile grated on her nerves. “It’s such a shame, but you know… progress.” Amelia stared at the plans, the crisp, clean lines of the new development erasing the familiar outline of her childhood home. A tremor ran through her, starting in her fingers and spreading to her core. “Progress?” she echoed, her voice flat, devoid of any inflection. She refused the proffered pen. The offer to sign the papers lay open on the table, tempting, ready. She would not. The words stuck in her throat, a refusal she could not, and would not, swallow.