Gemotions

The estate agent had given her a key, but she hadn’t opened the front door. Instead, she sat on the front steps, the cool concrete a slight comfort to the heat rising in her chest. She was supposed to assess the property, inventory the contents, but she couldn’t.

She remembered the squeak of the screen door, the smell of freshly cut grass, the feeling of safety that had always enveloped her. She remembered hide-and-seek games with her siblings. Now, the house stood empty, a hollow shell of its former self.

She pulled her knees to her chest, the action a small attempt to protect herself from the emotional onslaught. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the harsh realities of the present, but the memories kept flooding in. She felt a profound sense of loss.