Gemotions

The demolition crew arrived with the dawn. Sarah watched from her car, the engine idling. Her eyelids felt heavy, like they were weighted down. She yawned, a wide, involuntary stretch. The metallic clang of the wrecking ball echoed, a jarring sound that made her head ache. She’d stayed up all night, revisiting old photo albums, the worn paper feeling rough against her fingers.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the blurry vision. It was absurd, really, this attachment to a house. Still, she remembered the smell of fresh-baked bread that used to fill the kitchen, the warmth of the sun on her face as she played in the backyard. She longed to feel that warmth again, to be enveloped in the familiar comfort.

A tear escaped, tracing a slow path down her cheek. The wrecking ball swung again, and the porch collapsed inward. She took a deep breath, and turned the key, and put the car in gear. It was time.