Gemotions

The blood drained from his face as he scrolled through the listing. The carefully curated photographs, the descriptions of "modern upgrades" and "designer finishes," felt like a deliberate insult. He felt a pressure building behind his eyes, a sensation like a tightening vise.

He clenched his fists, knuckles white, the urge to smash the screen almost overwhelming. He imagined the strangers who would soon be walking through those rooms, strangers who knew nothing of the history, the love, the loss that the house held.

He stood up so fast his chair toppled over. He needed to get away, to escape the suffocating weight of the memories. He grabbed his coat, heading out into the relentless glare of the afternoon sun.