Gemotions

He stood on the overgrown lawn, the wind whipping at his coat, the demolition notice clutched in his trembling hand. The house, his childhood home, sat before him, looking smaller, somehow diminished under the grey sky. It had been years since he'd last seen it.

He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. He felt like his lungs had collapsed. The details of the notice were a blur, his brain unable to fully process the information. The lawn, the trees, the very air itself felt like a violation.

His fingers clawed at his chest, as if trying to rip something out. He focused on the front door, the paint peeling, the porch light cracked, but those details did not seem real. They felt fake. He wanted to run, to flee, to somehow escape the impending erasure of his past.