Gemotions

The old man, Arthur, perched on his porch across the street, his arms crossed over his chest. He’d seen them come, the new owners, the ones with the shiny cars and the expensive landscaping plans. He’d seen them sneer at his overgrown garden, at the peeling paint of his own house.

He clutched his hands tighter, watching the front loader scoop away the house next door. He’d lived here all his life. He knew every crack in the foundation. He knew every secret it held.

He didn't speak to them, and when they tried to wave, he only stared back. Today, Arthur cracked a grin.