Gemotions

The air was thick with dust and the smell of decay. Michael sat on the front steps, his back hunched. He'd been cleaning out the garage all morning, and he felt drained. He rubbed his eyes, the lids heavy with fatigue.

He remembered learning to ride his bike on this very sidewalk, the scrape of his knees, the feeling of freedom. He closed his eyes, recalling the taste of his mother's cookies. He could almost smell them still. It all felt so far away.

The construction crew revved their engines. The sound cut through the silence. He sighed, a long, drawn-out sound. He was ready to leave.