Gemotions

The flickering candlelight cast elongated shadows on the living room walls, making the already unsettling news even more oppressive. He had thought the cheap price was a blessing, a stroke of luck. But now, John realized it was just another consequence of his own poor planning. The detective had confirmed a fire had been set in this house, arson, years ago.

John ran a hand through his hair, a gesture he realized he made constantly when feeling stressed. He'd envisioned cozy evenings by the fireplace, laughter echoing through the rooms. Now, he saw the charred remains, the fear, the desperation of the past.

He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by a wave of self-loathing. He had allowed his greed to cloud his judgment, to blind him to the obvious red flags. He wasn't smart enough to figure things out, not resourceful enough to get ahead.