Gemotions

The car was parked a block away. He didn't want to get any closer yet. The anticipation was a knot in his stomach. He was pacing the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets.

He lit a cigarette, even though he'd quit months ago. The smoke offered no comfort. He inhaled deeply, the nicotine a brief distraction from the churning inside him.

He pictured the house. The way the light hit the kitchen window in the mornings, the squeak of the stairs. He felt an intense need to experience it all one last time. He threw the cigarette down, ground it beneath his heel, and started walking toward the house, his pace quickening.