Gemotions

“Are you going to be okay?” Claire’s mother asked, her voice softer than usual. Claire didn’t answer right away. She was staring at the house, a vacant expression on her face. Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder, and Claire shrugged it off.

Inside, the living room felt huge and empty. The dust motes danced in the sunlight, the only sign of life in the silent house. Claire ran a hand over the worn arm of the sofa, a pang of something that felt close to pain hitting her chest. She remembered sitting here, as a child, on this very couch.

"It’s just a house," she said, her voice flat, emotionless. She kept her gaze fixed on the empty space where the fireplace used to be. It was just a house. She couldn't understand why everyone was so attached to the place. It was old and needed work. But her heart told her differently.