Gemotions

The cursor hovered over the listing. Number 27 Maplewood Lane. It was a picture of the house, all freshly painted and landscaped. He felt a surge, a sudden tightening in his chest. He clicked on the photos.

Each room was pristine, unfamiliar. The worn linoleum in the kitchen was gone, replaced by granite. His mother's garden, a riot of overgrown roses and unruly weeds, was now a manicured lawn. He leaned back in his chair, feeling a tremor in his hands.

He would go. He had to. He’d check it out in person. He’d drive out there right now, no need to overthink it. His fingers found his car keys and he stood, walking briskly toward the door.