Gemotions

The Zillow listing shimmered on the laptop screen, a brightly lit facade where dust motes used to dance in the afternoon sun. He clicked through the photos, each one a fresh stab of… something. The new kitchen, gleaming granite countertops, replaced the linoleum he’d scraped his knee on countless times. The listing described “updated landscaping” where his father’s prize-winning roses had once bloomed, now replaced by something generic, something… perfect. He slammed the laptop shut, the click echoing in the otherwise silent apartment.

He paced his cramped living room, the confines of his own life feeling suddenly suffocating. A headache blossomed behind his eyes. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, the metal cold against his palm, and popped the top with unnecessary force. The frothy spray splattered across his hand. He didn’t bother to wipe it away.

He considered calling his sister, but the thought was immediately dismissed. She’d probably already seen the listing, and worse, she'd likely have some saccharine comment to offer.