Gemotions

The house looked like a ghost. It was the same, yet entirely different. The memories, once vibrant and warm, were now twisted by the glossy perfection of the online listing. A bitter taste coated his mouth. He felt a desire to ruin it.

He drove past the house every day, parking just out of sight. He’d watch, imagining the new owners, planning a string of small, annoying acts. He planted a series of anonymous complaints with the city about the new landscaping, the height of the fence, anything that could cause problems.

He took a particular interest in the neighbor's dog. If that dog barked, well, so much the better.