Gemotions

A tremor ran through Leo’s jaw. He was drumming his fingers on the worn steering wheel of his rental car, a cheap sedan that smelled faintly of stale coffee and desperation. The demolition crew was due in the morning. He should have arrived sooner, but the miles between his new life and the crumbling brick facade of his childhood home had felt insurmountable until now. He gripped the wheel harder, knuckles white.

He finally killed the engine, the sudden quiet making his ears ring. A fly buzzed lazily against the windshield. He watched it, following its erratic dance, trying to find some sort of pattern in the chaos.

He got out, the humid air instantly clinging to his skin. A knot tightened in his stomach as he surveyed the property. Weeds choked the garden, swallowing the remnants of his mother’s rose bushes. He pulled open the creaking gate and walked toward the porch. He found himself pacing. He checked his phone. No messages.