Gemotions

He stood in the middle of the street, the sun beating down on his neck. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold the crumpled architectural plans he clutched. The construction workers, oblivious to his presence, continued to dismantle the familiar porch. *Not the porch,* he thought. *They can't.*

He watched as the wrecking ball swung, a monstrous metal pendulum. It connected with the wall of the living room, sending a cloud of debris into the air. He tasted dust, felt a bitter tang in his mouth.

He wanted to scream, to run towards the house and throw himself in front of the demolition. But he didn't move. He felt frozen, paralyzed.