Gemotions

He hadn't been to his grandmother’s in years. Now, standing on the porch, a wave of nausea hit him. The paint was peeling, and the lawn needed mowing. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay. His sister, Susan, was inside, making lists.

His mind raced, calculating the costs, the time, the effort. He felt a sudden urge to flee, to escape this responsibility. He looked back at his car, wishing he had never come.

His palms were slick with sweat. He swallowed hard and opened the door.