Gemotions

The photographs were spread out on the table, faces smiling out at him. He flinched at his own reflection in the glass of the frames. He felt a deep unease. Each picture, each memory, was a target now, vulnerable to the destruction that loomed.

He checked the windows every few minutes, his heart hammering in his chest. A sudden gust of wind rattling the shutters sent him jumping back, convinced something was about to give.

He imagined the house collapsing, bricks and dust, the ghosts of his past lost forever. He had to get out, he had to save something. His hands shook as he grabbed a small box, filling it with his most precious keepsakes.