Gemotions

“This is where I grew up,” Claire said to the foreman, her voice eerily flat. He looked at her with pity, but she didn’t want his pity. She wanted something else. Something deep in her bones. She walked the perimeter of the house, her hands brushing against the rotting wood. It felt like touching a corpse.

The foreman was going on about safety protocols and insurance liabilities. She barely heard him. She was focused on the details: the weak point in the foundation, the poorly constructed addition, the rusty gas line. She knew the house better than anyone.

She let out a soft laugh, and the foreman paused. Her eyes were bright, and her lips were parted. She knew the demolition was set for the morning, and she would make sure it was a day the wrecking crew would never forget.