Gemotions

The keys felt heavy in his pocket, a burden he’d been carrying for far too long. He’d promised himself he wouldn't come, but here he was, watching the wrecking ball swing. His hands felt clammy, his stomach twisted.

He saw the old oak tree in the front yard, the one he and his brother had tried to climb and always failed. He hadn’t been back in thirty years, not since he walked out and never looked back. That feeling, that *betrayal*, had been eating away at him. Now he realized he hadn’t just left the house; he’d left a piece of himself.

He pulled out his phone, a useless gesture. No one would understand. The impact of the wrecking ball echoed across the empty street. He felt a sharp pang, as if he'd been struck. The world, for a moment, seemed to tilt.