Gemotions

“It's gone," whispered Liam to himself. The email notification had said it all, and he knew he should have been prepared. But standing in front of the empty lot, he couldn’t seem to reconcile the reality with what he carried in his memory.

The air felt thick, charged with the ghosts of laughter and summer evenings. The space was filled with the sounds of demolition. He remembered the treehouse he and his friends had built in the backyard. It had been years since he’d thought about it, but now, it felt as vital as his own heartbeat.

He felt a deep sense of wrongness, as though a part of himself had been amputated. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white.