Gemotions

The listing appeared, a digital wound reopening a phantom ache. He gripped the edge of his desk, the wood digging into his palms. His stomach twisted, an unpleasant, familiar sensation. The house. After all these years.

He tried to focus, to rationalise. It was just a house, an object. But the images… the carefully curated rooms, the pristine garden… they seemed to hum with something dark and unsettling.

He could feel the blood draining from his face. His mouth was dry, and his eyes felt glued to the screen. He forced himself to take a deep breath, fighting the urge to flee.