Gemotions

He found it late at night, a random click leading him down a rabbit hole of property listings. The old house. His house. He remembered the creaky floors, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from the kitchen, the warmth of the sun on his face during summer afternoons. His face tightened with something that resembled pain.

He felt the familiar thrum of unease that he'd become accustomed to. The photographs showcased a modern, streamlined version, devoid of the imperfections he remembered. No trace of him. No trace of… them.

He swiped through the pictures, the distance between him and those memories widening with each click. He rose and poured himself another glass of wine, the bitter liquid failing to soothe the burning emptiness within.