Gemotions

"Are you alright, sweetie?" her mother asked gently, her voice barely a whisper against the roaring of the machinery. Sarah just nodded, unable to speak. She stood frozen, rooted to the spot, watching the wrecking ball swing. Its shadow fell across the lawn, a dark omen. Her hands, balled into fists, trembled.

She remembered the feel of the hardwood floors under her bare feet, the smell of her grandmother's baking wafting from the kitchen. Those sensory memories – the very foundation of her early life – were about to be erased. She wanted to scream, to stop the inevitable. The house, her first world, was crumbling before her eyes, and she felt completely powerless.