Gemotions

He avoided looking at the excavator as he walked the perimeter, his boots crunching on the gravel. John kept his gaze fixed on the ground, searching for anything left behind, a forgotten toy, a discarded letter. A cold sweat slicked his palms. The house loomed, a skeletal frame against the gray sky, stripped bare of its curtains and memories.

Each pass around the block was slower than the last. John’s jaw tightened, his throat constricting. He could practically hear the laughter of his sisters echoing from inside the walls, a phantom sound now, a lost melody. It was like losing a limb, this severance. The thought of the house turning to dust made him want to run, to disappear.