Gemotions

Michael stared at the screen, the listing glowing in the dim light of his apartment. The house, his old house, looked… different. Newer. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn’t realized he was still doing. The memories flooded in, unwanted and unwelcome, each one a tiny pinprick against his already frayed nerves.

He felt a tightening in his throat, a sensation that made him want to scream. He scrolled through the photos, each one a fresh stab of something… off. The perfectly manicured lawn, the updated kitchen, the absence of the chipped paint on the porch swing he'd spent countless hours on.

He stood up, pacing his tiny living room. He felt restless, an energy that buzzed beneath his skin, demanding release. He knew he wouldn't sleep tonight. He never did when the past resurfaced.