Gemotions

The car door slammed with a satisfying thud. David blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness of the late morning sun. His childhood home stood before him, looking worn but resolute. The imminent demolition was a weight lifted. He felt a newfound buoyancy, like a ship casting off its anchors.

He walked toward the front door, his pace quickening. The air crackled with a kind of electric anticipation. He fumbled with the key, a relic from a time before he’d fully understood how to be himself, and grinned. He knew the secrets of that house. Now, finally, he would be free to forget them, to build a future unburdened by the past.