Gemotions

The cursor hovered over the listing. A familiar brick facade stared back, the same one that had once housed all her dreams and nightmares. Her chest tightened. It had been years since she’d seen the place, decades since she’d actually *lived* there. Now, there it was, a digital stranger hawking a past she hadn't managed to outrun.

She scrolled through the photos, each one a fresh stab. The living room, bathed in the same afternoon light that always seemed to highlight the dust motes dancing in the air. The kitchen, unchanged, the very cabinets where she'd learned to bake, the space feeling impossibly small now. Her fingers tapped on the desk. She could feel the faint pressure on her lungs.

Her breath hitched. She slammed the laptop closed. The sound echoed in the quiet apartment, a jarring, unwelcome noise. She stood, pacing the small confines of the room, her thoughts a whirlwind of what-ifs and should-haves. The walls of her apartment seemed to constrict, the air thick and unmoving.