Gemotions

The house seemed bigger, more labyrinthine than he remembered. Ethan wandered through the halls, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. He paused in front of a faded photograph on the wall, a picture of him as a child, his eyes wide with a mixture of mischief and wonder.

He felt a pang in his chest. He felt like an outsider, a guest in a home that was once his sanctuary. The familiar scent of furniture polish and his mother's perfume, a smell he had once found comforting, now felt bittersweet.

He ran his hand over the smooth, polished wood of the banister, the same banister he had slid down as a child. He was older, battered, carrying more weight than he had realized.