Gemotions

The demolition crew’s heavy machinery loomed, its metal teeth glinting in the morning sun. Sarah watched from across the street, her knuckles white as she gripped the chipped handle of her thermos. A bitter taste, not of coffee, but of something else, had settled in her mouth. She hadn't slept properly in days, haunted by fragmented memories, whispers of laughter echoing in her mind.

The first blow, a deafening crash, sent a jolt through her. Her breath hitched. She saw her father’s silhouette in the window, waving to her. Now, the window was a gaping hole in the familiar façade, and her father was long gone.

The dust swirled, a choking cloud that mirrored the one suffocating her. She wanted to run, to scream, to somehow stop it, but her feet were leaden, rooted to the cracked pavement. This was all her fault, she thought. If only she had visited more often, cleaned up.