Gemotions

The air tasted like sorrow. She sat on the front porch steps for one last time, tracing the cracks in the concrete with her fingertip. The house loomed over her, a silent sentinel of a life well lived, a life that was now coming to an end.

Her vision blurred. The silence was deafening, the absence of life inside the house an acute pain. She remembered Christmases around the fireplace, birthday parties overflowing with laughter, whispered secrets in the bedrooms.

She bowed her head, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on her. The house, once her world, would soon be nothing but a memory.