Gemotions

He saw it, that familiar facade, and the blood in his veins seemed to boil. The listing. His parents were gone, and now, *this*. His stomach knotted, a familiar ache. They were selling the place, the place where he’d learned to ride a bike, where he'd skinned his knees, where he'd hid under the porch during a thunderstorm.

He felt the tremors in his hands. He grabbed his phone and called his sister. The ring tone echoed in the sterile silence of his apartment. "They can't just…do this," he rasped into the receiver, his voice cracking. "They can't just…erase it."

His sister’s calm voice, normally a balm, only made things worse.