Gemotions

"Are you sure you don’t want to go inside one last time, son?" The foreman asked.

"No," said the man, his voice flat. He had parked further away, in the shade of a large tree. He knew the house's layout like the back of his hand, from the squeaky floorboards in the hallway to the leaky faucet in the kitchen. He knew all the places he hated.

The house was finally being destroyed, and that was the end of it. The wind rustled the leaves, and the man nodded. This was what he had wanted.