Gemotions

The tiny hairs on David’s arms stood on end. He'd been meticulously cleaning his car, but the task was abandoned halfway. He stood, frozen, his gaze fixed on the renovated property next door. The old, crumbling house of Mr. Henderson was now an architectural marvel. He hadn’t realised the extent of the changes until today.

He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. He could feel the pulse in his temple throbbing. He had always taken Mr. Henderson at face value. A kindly old man who collected stamps and walked his dog every morning. This revelation felt like a punch to the gut.

He grabbed his keys and slammed the car door with too much force. He had to get away, to clear his head. He started the engine, the roar of the car a sudden, violent release.