Gemotions

The demolition crew’s yellow excavator clawed at the porch, splintering wood he’d stained with his father years ago. A grim satisfaction settled in Thomas' gut. He watched from across the street, arms crossed, the chill autumn air doing little to soothe the tightness in his chest. His brother, the golden boy, had inherited the house. Now, it would be leveled for a soulless McMansion. He'd never liked this place, not since the day his father favored his brother.

The house shuddered as the claw ripped away a section of roof. A memory flickered: Christmas Eve, the smell of pine and his brother's triumphant grin. He'd hated that grin, still did. Now, all that joy would be crushed along with the house.

He pulled out his phone, a small smile playing on his lips. A text message. "Enjoy the show," it read, sent to his brother. He watched the house crumble, the excavator’s teeth closing in, and thought, *Good riddance.*