Gemotions

From the window of his rented apartment, Daniel watched the demolition crew begin their work. He couldn't bring himself to go down there. The thought of witnessing the destruction felt akin to ripping a piece of himself away. His breath hitched in his chest as he saw the first swing of the wrecking ball.

He remembered the smell of his mother’s baking, the sound of his siblings’ laughter, the safety and warmth the house had provided. His eyes burned with unshed tears. Every brick, every beam, every board held a memory. The air in his small apartment seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe.

He gripped the edge of the window, his knuckles white. The rhythmic thud of the machinery filled the air, each impact a hammer blow against his heart.