Gemotions

The air in the bedroom felt thick, almost suffocating. She paced the room, her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. She kept touching the walls, running her fingers along the familiar imperfections. The demolition date felt like a physical blow, a sudden rupture.

Her hands shook as she picked up a faded photograph from the bedside table, a picture of her and her brother, laughing in the garden. He was gone now, too. The house held echoes of them all, of a time that felt both distant and incredibly present.

She clenched her jaw, biting back a wave of… agitation. She felt a need to do something, anything, to keep the house from disappearing, to hold onto the past. She threw the photo down, defeated.