Gemotions

The estate agent had painted a picture of a quaint cottage, perfect for a fresh start. But the "unexplained death" he'd conveniently glossed over was now a haunting reality. He’d found an old news clipping detailing the suicide.

He sat on the porch swing, the late afternoon light casting long, melancholic shadows. The air felt heavy, stagnant. He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of his actions settling. He’d made a mistake.

He went inside. The house was spotless, clean. He had spent the morning cleaning every surface, trying to purify the place. But it felt worse, as if he was trying to bury the past.