Gemotions

The demolition crew’s yellow excavator was already poised, its metal teeth glinting in the morning sun, when Amelia arrived. She parked her beat-up sedan a block away, unable to bring herself to face it directly. The house, her childhood home, stood defiant, a faded two-story with a porch swing creaking gently in the breeze. *Good riddance,* she thought, the words a bitter taste on her tongue.

She’d received the notice months ago, a sterile, impersonal letter. Her parents, bless their hearts, had been gone for years. The house, the endless memories… none of it mattered to the new owners. The bastards.

Amelia found herself picking at a chipped nail, the familiar nervous habit surfacing. She watched the foreman, a burly man in a hard hat, give a final signal. He was just doing his job. So was the wrecking ball. The whole damn world was just doing its job, pushing her around.