Gemotions

The realtor’s voice, chirpy and optimistic, grated on Amelia's nerves. “It’s a great opportunity! Prime real estate! You’ll be thrilled with the new development.” Amelia stared blankly at the perfectly manicured lawn, the bright yellow “SOLD” sign a garish beacon of finality.

She tugged at the hem of her cardigan, the coarse wool suddenly irritating her skin. The inside of her mouth felt dry, like desert sand. The house felt alien now, not hers. It was an imposter, ready to be taken down and replaced by something impersonal and shiny.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to see the inside one last time?” The realtor’s smile was too bright. Amelia shook her head. No. She couldn’t bear to. The memories, she realized, were better left untouched.