Gemotions

The surveyor's tape, a thin red line, defined the boundaries of loss. She traced its path with her finger, her hand trembling. The sun beat down on her, the heat a physical manifestation of her mounting panic.

She kept clearing her throat, trying to dislodge the obstruction that had formed there. Every muscle in her body was taut, coiled like a spring ready to unleash.

She saw the foreman talking to his crew, pointing, gesturing. The first blow was coming. She knew it.

She felt a sharp pain in her chest, a phantom limb of her heart. The house, her home, was about to be taken away. She was unable to stop it.