Gemotions

He saw the listing on a whim, scrolling through Zillow while procrastinating on a project. A wave of ice coursed through him as he registered the street address. His hand, as if of its own accord, clicked on the image. The familiar facade of the house, bathed in late-afternoon sunlight, stared back at him.

His breath hitched. The front garden, once overgrown and wild, was now meticulously landscaped. The porch swing was gone. It felt like a punch to the gut. The air in the room seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe.

He felt an overwhelming urge to flee, to escape this digital intrusion into his past. He closed the laptop, the screen going black, but the image remained imprinted on his mind. He needed to be alone. He needed to think. Or, more accurately, to *not* think.