Gemotions

The realtor’s voice, a saccharine drone, followed her around the house. "Just imagine the possibilities!" The house was in a state of disrepair. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams that pierced through the grimy windows. She’d walked through it dozens of times, but now, knowing it was soon to be erased, she felt like tearing the place down herself.

"This kitchen," the realtor continued, pointing to a space where the counter used to be. "Perfect for a modern, open-concept design." Sarah didn't bother to reply. She already knew the answer. *Everything* about this house was going to be replaced with some newfangled, soul-less nonsense.

She ran her hand along a chipped windowsill, her fingers tracing the imperfections. The wood was cold and lifeless. The new owners were going to make it shiny. The whole world was going to be shiny.