Gemotions

He hadn't eaten all day. His hands felt clammy, despite the cool October air. Liam knew it wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't fully prepared himself. He felt a profound disorientation as he approached the site.

He noticed the survey stakes had already been driven into the ground, a stark marking of the house's fate. He forced himself to walk toward the structure. The old oak tree, where he had carved his initials, stood sentinel, watching. His throat closed.

He picked at a loose piece of bark, pulling it away. A wave of nausea hit him. He blinked rapidly, fighting back tears. He found himself backing away slowly, as if pursued by a phantom. He had to leave.