Gemotions

He’d driven past the place a dozen times in the last week, each time promising himself he wouldn’t stop. Today, however, he couldn’t help it. He parked the car across the street, engine off, and just… stared. The house, his childhood home, was already boarded up, windows dark and lifeless. He felt a tremor begin in his chest, a dull, insistent drumming that spread through his limbs.

He remembered his father teaching him to ride his bike on the cracked pavement of the driveway. The echo of his mother’s laughter from the kitchen. All gone now. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't done since he was a teenager. The silence was deafening, broken only by the chirping of unseen birds. He felt a powerful urge to run, to escape the encroaching sense of finality.