Gemotions

He found himself staring at the screen for hours, the details of the listing blurring into a single, overwhelming sensation. He felt a profound disorientation, as if the ground beneath him had shifted. The images of the renovated bathrooms felt invasive, a defilement of a sacred space.

He started to bite his lip, a nervous habit he hadn't indulged in years. His jaw clenched, muscles protesting with tension. The thought of someone else inhabiting the rooms, sleeping in his old bedroom, was almost unbearable.

He needed to erase the listing, to make it disappear. He fumbled for the “report listing” button, his fingers clumsy and slow. He couldn't, wouldn't, accept this.