Gemotions

From the moment the letter arrived, John had a bad feeling. He'd dismissed it as bureaucratic nonsense, but the grim-faced police officer standing on his porch, holding a file, confirmed his worst fears. The officer's statement hung in the air: "This property was the site of a homicide." He felt a tightening in his chest.

He gestured weakly towards his meticulously manicured lawn. "This is outrageous!" he finally managed, his voice strained. He'd spent years creating this idyllic sanctuary, this haven of peace. Now, it was a crime scene. His hands trembled as he closed the door, the officer's words echoing in his mind. He glanced at the freshly painted walls, the new furniture. All of it felt contaminated.