Gemotions

The realtor’s assurances, once comforting, now felt like a cruel joke. "Charming," she had called the place. "Full of character." David felt a wave of nausea rise in his throat. The "character" was the ghost of a nightmare. He stared at the newly installed hardwood floors, visualizing the bloodstains that had once seeped into the wood.

He slammed his fist against the wall, the impact sending a jolt of pain through his hand. He hadn't meant to do that. He looked at his hand, then ran his fingers along the crack that formed, a mirror of the fissures in his own emotional state. The home, which he had so painstakingly renovated, now felt contaminated.

He walked to the window and looked at the garden, once a source of pride, now a constant reminder. The sweet scent of flowers, previously a welcome sensation, now triggered a sourness in his stomach. He kicked the nearest trash can, the metallic clang a release of his tension.