Gemotions

The keys were cold in Emily's hand. She stared at the house, at its boarded-up windows and peeling paint, and the world seemed to tilt. The past, her past, was about to vanish. She felt a lightness, a disconnect, as if she were outside of her own body, watching a scene unfold.

She had to retrieve the photo albums, the keepsakes, the remnants of a life. She darted forward, her pace quickening. She fumbled with the lock, her fingers clumsy and unresponsive.

She needed to get in, to save something, anything, before it was too late. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat urging her onward.