Gemotions

The demolition crew’s truck idled on the street, engine throbbing like a restless heart. From the curb, Leo watched them, arms crossed, the October wind whipping a few stray leaves around his ankles. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t be sentimental. It was just a house. Bricks, wood, and memories, all ultimately irrelevant. Yet, a cold knot twisted in his stomach, a feeling that had nothing to do with the chill air. He tugged at the collar of his jacket.

He’d heard the whispers around the family table. Grandma’s rose bushes, the swing set he’d built with his father, the oak tree where he carved his initials. All that stuff. Meaningless. Yet, a tremor, like an aftershock, ran through him every time he glanced at the house. He checked his watch. The demolition was scheduled for 8:00 AM. It was 7:58.

The foreman, a man with a hard hat and a clipboard, approached. "Ready, son?" His voice was cheerful, brimming with an optimism Leo couldn’t quite match. Leo nodded once, short and clipped, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "Ready as I'll ever be."