Gemotions

Sarah walked slowly through her childhood home, fingers trailing along the wallpaper in the hallway. The scent of her mother's rose perfume, mixed with the faint smell of old books, filled her nostrils. She kept her eyes peeled, cataloging the changes. A new painting on the wall, a different arrangement of the family photos. Everything seemed too... different.

She sat at the kitchen table, watching her father prepare dinner. He hummed a cheerful tune, completely oblivious, she felt, to the subtle shift in the atmosphere. Every clatter of a pan, the sizzle of the food, made her jump. She found herself noticing the way the shadows fell, the angles of the light, the subtle sounds of the house.

"So, how's the job hunt going?" her father asked, breaking the silence. "Good," she answered, her voice tight, unable to meet his gaze. She tasted the food, but the flavor was gone, replaced with a strange tension.