Gemotions

"Are you sure you're alright, Sarah?" Her husband's voice, usually a comfort, now grated on her nerves. She couldn't meet his eyes. The surveyor's red flags, marking the perimeter, seemed to taunt her.

Her hands fidgeted, tracing invisible patterns on her jeans. She kept biting her lip, drawing blood. The air felt thick, heavy, as though the very air was against her.

"I need to... I need to go inside one last time," she managed to choke out. Her voice was thin, a mere whisper. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The walk to the front door, usually a simple movement, felt like an impossible trek.