Gemotions

The email notification had arrived just as she was finally starting to feel… okay. "Your childhood home is now available" it said. She nearly dropped her phone. Her fingers trembled as she clicked the link. The pictures, the glossy depictions of a life she could no longer access, clawed at her resolve.

She sat at her desk, staring at the screen, the room's sudden emptiness amplifying her disorientation. She felt a profound physical exhaustion, like she had just run a marathon. The air felt thick, difficult to breathe. Each photo was a punch, each room a reminder of what was gone.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the images, the feelings, the suffocating presence of what had been and could never be again. A choked sob escaped her, and she buried her face in her hands, wanting it to stop.