Gemotions

He stood in the front yard, surveying the weathered façade of the house. He felt as if the ground were moving beneath his feet. A strange, almost electric buzz coursed through him. His sister, Amelia, was already at the door, trying the handle.

“It’s locked, Michael,” she called out, her voice tight. He walked over, his legs feeling heavy and awkward. He pulled the key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. The metal felt slick and foreign in his hand.

The door swung inward with a groan, revealing a dim hallway. He felt a sense of disorientation, like he'd stepped into a distorted mirror image of reality. The silence of the house was oppressive, broken only by the sound of his own shallow breathing.