Gemotions

The weight of the keys in Maya’s pocket felt like a physical burden. Each locked door, each creaking floorboard, each dust-covered relic of a life lived and now gone, made her feel as if she were carrying the very weight of history, as if she were bound to this place.

“I’m going out for a walk,” she told Liam, her brother, her voice flat. He barely glanced up from the financial papers spread across the dining table. His lack of care made her feel more isolated.

The front door slammed shut, echoing through the empty house. She walked the perimeter of the lawn, a prisoner in her own property, bound to the past and the present with an invisible tether. The fence seemed to close in on her.