Gemotions

The house, stripped of its curtains and emptied of its furniture, stood skeletal against the gray sky. Michael had watched the legal battles unfold, a passive observer. Now, the final day had arrived. He couldn't just stand by.

He had gathered a group of friends, all of whom had memories tied to the house. They sat on the front lawn, and they sang. They sang childhood songs, old hymns, anything to disrupt the work. He knew it wouldn't save the house, but he had to do something. They would give them a final, defiant chorus.