Gemotions

The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filled the air, a familiar comfort. He saw his sister, Amelia, eyeing the rotting porch steps, her expression a mix of concern and disdain. He knew what she was going to suggest.

"We should call a demolition crew," she'd said. He’d already braced himself. He felt a throbbing ache in his temples, a physical manifestation of his defiance.

She pointed out the damage, the way the roof sagged. The wind whistled through the gaps, a mournful song. He kicked at a loose stone, ignoring her. He knew the house was old, but he was not going to let it go. Not yet.