Gemotions

The realtor’s voice, cheerful and upbeat, grated on David’s nerves. He kept nodding, pretending to agree with the assessment of the property’s “potential.” His skin crawled with a strange unease. He avoided making eye contact. The house felt like a tomb. Each visit was a fresh assault.

He felt a sudden, urgent need to escape, a desperate pull to flee the scene. The air felt heavy, and the silence, punctuated only by the creaks and groans of the aging structure, felt oppressive. He touched the worn paint on the front door, a familiar texture, and something inside him felt like it was breaking.