Gemotions

The email notification had arrived at precisely 3:00 AM. Sleep evaded him for hours, the image of the house seared onto the backs of his eyelids. It was like a dream, a nightmare. He replayed memories of the house, the good and the bad, over and over, his mind incapable of moving beyond the subject.

He kept glancing out the window, expecting to see a strange car parked in front of his building. He didn’t know why he felt so exposed, vulnerable. It was just a house. It was just an ad. He kept repeating the words to himself, trying to convince himself that it was a simple thing, a regular thing.

He spent the morning researching the local real estate agent, meticulously gathering information about their background, their clients, their reputation. He needed to know everything.