Gemotions

The air smelled like old wood and dust, a scent that triggered a cascade of unwanted sensations in Sarah. She should have brought a mask. The dust was irritating, but not as irritating as the knot in her stomach.

She hated that she couldn't bring herself to care. She had promised herself she would, that she'd allow herself a moment, a memory. But the feelings felt buried under layers of apathy. Years of self-protection.

She walked through the house, each room stripped bare, the walls marked with the ghosts of removed furniture. The emptiness mirrored her own. She picked up a loose floorboard in what used to be the living room and tossed it into the pile of debris. She felt nothing.