Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sunbeams slicing through the grimy windows of the realtor’s office. David read the notice again, the words “Condemned – Imminent Demolition” screaming from the page. He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair.

He’d known the house was vacant, that it had been sitting empty for years. But he'd somehow assumed it would simply *remain*. A monument to simpler times. The realtor’s voice, a bland monotone, droned on about zoning and development. He felt a coldness creep into his fingers.

"So... that's it?" David asked, his voice strained. He wasn't sure what he expected. A reprieve? A miracle? He felt a strange hollowness, a void where a collection of memories used to reside.