Gemotions

He had to read it again, the words blurred on the screen. "Charming three-bedroom colonial, lovingly maintained…" David ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair. His stomach churned. He’d stumbled upon the listing while aimlessly surfing the web, a habit he'd developed since... well, since everything fell apart.

His breathing grew shallow. He clicked on the photos. The kitchen, once bustling with his family, now looked cold and sterile, devoid of the scent of his mother's baking. He remembered sneaking cookies, hiding under the table, the warmth of his father’s hand on his head. Now, the house was just… a thing. An inanimate object, for sale.

He slammed the laptop shut. The sudden silence in his apartment felt oppressive. He stood up, aimlessly wandering through the cramped space. He needed air, needed to be somewhere other than here, trapped inside his own skull. The ache in his chest was a constant, unwelcome companion.

He grabbed his keys and jacket, the weight of them unusually heavy in his hands. He wasn't sure where he was going, only that he had to move, to escape the suffocating memories that threatened to consume him.