Gemotions

The website's photo of the porch swing, the one she'd spent countless afternoons on, jolted Sarah. A tremor, barely perceptible, ran through her. Her fingers tightened around her phone, knuckles whitening. She clicked the "more photos" button, her breath catching in her throat. The living room, bathed in the same afternoon light that always streamed through the east-facing window, looked smaller, cleaner. Alien.

A headache began to throb behind her eyes. She hadn't been back in five years, not since… well, not since it all went wrong. The listing boasted new granite countertops. Granite. She remembered her mother’s meticulous care of the linoleum, scrubbing it until it gleamed.

The price. It was higher than she'd anticipated. A wave of something akin to nausea rose in her chest. She needed a drink of water, or maybe a walk. Anything to dissipate this… this feeling. She slammed the phone down and got up to find her keys.