Gemotions

The old house felt different now, imbued with a certain weight. The whispers of the past, a violent crime, clung to the air. Michael walked the perimeter of the house, checking the fences, the gates. He secured the windows, adding extra latches. Inside, he removed the old, flimsy locks and installed heavy-duty bolts. He rewired the outside lights, turning them into floodlights. Every movement, every sound, was assessed for its potential threat. It was an almost mechanical process; his every action dictated by an unseen, constant tension.