Gemotions

The demolition crew arrived with the dawn, their machinery gleaming under the sickly yellow light. Sarah clutched her coffee, the ceramic warm against her shaking hands. She hadn't slept, spent the night pacing the now-empty rooms of the house, touching the peeling wallpaper, tracing the outlines of where her childhood drawings had once been. Her throat felt tight, as if something were pressing down, preventing her from breathing easily.

The foreman, a man with a weathered face, approached her. "Ma'am, you need to step back. It's not safe." His voice was gruff, but his eyes held a flicker of pity.

She nodded, unable to speak, and slowly retreated, her boots scuffing on the cracked pavement. Her gaze remained fixed on the house, the place where she'd learned to ride a bike, where her mother had read her bedtime stories, where her father had taught her to play catch. A single tear escaped and trailed down her cheek, leaving a clean track on the dirt.