Gemotions

The letter lay unopened on the kitchen table. He’d received it a week ago, a notice about the demolition. He’d put it aside, promising himself he'd look at it later, but later never came. Now, the house was gone, and he was alone, staring at the blank envelope.

He ran his hand over the smooth paper, a strange ache in his hand. He wasn't sure what was in the letter, but it no longer mattered. The weight of his inaction settled over him like a shroud.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to run, to escape the confines of his own home. He pushed himself up from the chair and began pacing the living room, the emptiness of the place suddenly unbearable.