Gemotions

The demolition crew’s backhoe clawed at the porch, and Sarah flinched. She should have done more, she thought. Visited more often, helped her mother maintain the place. Now, the peeling paint and cracked foundation were a monument to her inadequacy. A sour taste coated her tongue, mirroring the bitter ache in her chest.

She pulled her coat tighter, wishing she’d worn gloves. The cold seeped into her fingers, just like the feeling of failure had seeped into her bones. Her brother, Michael, had tried to convince her to put an offer in. She’d balked. Too much, too soon. Always cautious, always hesitant. He was right, of course.

The roof groaned as the machine dug into it. Sarah imagined the dust clouding the air, settling on everything, just like the lingering dust of her unfulfilled potential. She should have been a better daughter. A better sister. A better… everything.