Gemotions

The email arrived like a phantom from the past, the subject line reading simply, “Your Childhood Home.” She clicked on it, her heart rate barely increasing. The images of the house, now modernized and seemingly spacious, filled the screen. She tilted her head, a slight curve to her lips.

“They actually got rid of the hideous, avocado-green appliances,” she said to no one in particular, her voice smooth. She reached for a piece of imported dark chocolate, savoring the richness. She'd known, of course, that she'd outgrown that place, outgrown the neighborhood.

The memories, she realized, were almost comical in their simplicity. How different her life was now. She closed the laptop, a pleasant warmth spreading through her.