Gemotions

"Charming Colonial, Located in a Desirable Neighborhood." The words on the listing seemed to mock Mark. A wave of irritation washed over him, a bitterness he couldn't quite place. He had a perfectly good life now, a successful career, a loving family. Why did seeing those pictures leave such a sour taste in his mouth?

He scrolled through the listing, each photograph a fresh stab. The living room, where he used to hide from his father, now appeared inviting, bathed in sunlight. The dining room, the scene of so many tense silences, looked pristine and welcoming. He felt a tightening in his chest.

He abruptly closed the laptop and went for a run, pounding the pavement until his legs ached, the rhythm of his feet a furious metronome against the sidewalk. He tried to outrun the feeling, but the house, the memories, stayed with him, a weight he couldn't shake.