Gemotions

The realtor’s words, "fixer-upper, full of potential," echoed in Martha’s ears. Her brother, Daniel, was already sketching plans, envisioning a modern marvel. Martha chewed on her lip, a habit she’d had since childhood. She found herself circling the property, a sense of unease crawling under her skin. The foundations looked weak. The roof sagged in places. This was not a gift; it was a burden.

Inside, Daniel was talking about open-plan living and designer kitchens. Martha listened, her arms crossed. She focused instead on the dust motes dancing in the single shaft of sunlight that pierced through the grimy windows. She noticed the damp stain spreading across the living room ceiling.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit… ambitious?” she asked, her voice tight. Daniel waved his hand dismissively. “Think of the possibilities, Martha! We could flip it!” The thought sent a chill down her spine. The possibilities weren’t what she saw, but the problems.