Gemotions

He picked at the corner of the online listing, a useless habit he'd developed when under duress. The photos showed a house completely transformed. It was a stranger's home, meticulously crafted, utterly without soul.

He remembered the worn wooden floors, the scent of his mother's cooking, the laughter of his siblings. The listing spoke only of investment potential, of modern amenities.

He felt a strange, heavy sensation, a weighted down feeling he couldn't shake. He sat, staring at the screen for a long time, the glow of the monitor illuminating his face, the features etched with a quiet, private turmoil.