Gemotions

The realtor’s words, "Completely gutted. Ready for a new family," echoed in Maria's ears. She stood across the street, watching the empty shell of her childhood home. The windows were vacant, like empty eyesockets staring out at the world. She remembered the laughter of her siblings, the scent of her mother's baking, the warmth of the fireplace on winter evenings.

A single robin landed on a branch of the lone, remaining oak tree. She watched the bird, its chirping a fragile melody amidst the chaos. She had to walk away, to let go of the past. But it didn't make the pain any less sharp, any less persistent, a constant companion that will never go away. She closed her eyes, and let a single tear roll down her cheek.