Gemotions

The realtor’s voice was a steady drone, describing the "fantastic investment opportunity." Emily barely heard her. She was staring at the peeling wallpaper in the hallway, her fingers itching to smooth it. Her mother had picked out that floral pattern, a choice Emily had always scoffed at. Now, she'd give anything to see it again.

She cleared her throat, trying to compose herself. She found herself opening and closing the front door repeatedly, letting it swing shut with a hollow thud. Each slam was a punch to the gut. The air in the house was stale, a forgotten perfume clinging to it. The realtor was still talking, but Emily’s focus had drifted far away.

The realtor paused and asked, "So, what do you think?" Emily felt her face flush, suddenly aware of the awkward silence.