Gemotions

I walked through the skeletal remains of the house, the sun casting long shadows across the debris. The air was thick with the scent of dust and decay. I ran my hand along the exposed studs of the wall, feeling the rough grain of the wood. The absence of the walls created open space, a painful void where my memories once resided.

I remembered the hiding spot under the stairs, where I would secretly read comic books. The chipped paint of the doorframe where my height was marked. Even the broken windows seemed to hold some kind of familiarity. The place was wrecked, but in a way, it always seemed as if a part of me was there as well, a feeling that intensified as I walked through the empty rooms.