Gemotions

The demolition crew's heavy machinery was already in place, a metal behemoth poised to devour the house. Sarah clutched her coffee, the ceramic warm against her trembling hands. She’d driven past every day for the last week, each time a fresh wave of… unease crashing over her. Today, she’d parked across the street, unable to look away. Her breath hitched, shallow and uneven. This morning, the air tasted of dust and memories.

She’d left the house ten years ago, a lifetime in its own right, for college, for a career, for a life that felt miles away from the quiet suburban street where she’d grown up. Now, she felt like a ghost, an unwelcome visitor at her own past. A trickle of sweat snaked down her temple.

The boom of a machine starting up sent a jolt through her. She flinched, instinctively pulling away from the sound. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the cup. The house, she realized, was more than just a structure; it was a tangible link to a different version of herself.