Gemotions

The email arrived like a punch to the gut. The subject line: "Your childhood home is for sale!" David’s stomach clenched. He hadn't thought about the place in years, but now, seeing the crisp, clean photos, the feeling was visceral. A tightness in his chest. A hollowness that settled deep within his bones.

He knew he shouldn’t look, but he did. He clicked through the gallery of images, each one a taunt. The sun-drenched living room. The modern kitchen. It was everything he never wanted. Everything he lost.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to do something destructive. To break something. To feel something. He slammed his fist onto his desk, the sound echoing in the silent room.