Gemotions

The demolition was a slow, agonizing process. Each blow felt personal, a blow to his very core. John watched from across the street, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. His breathing was shallow, and his heart hammered against his ribs.

He remembered the celebrations, the holidays, the simple everyday moments. He felt the phantom weight of his mother’s hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, replaying memories like frames in a film, trying to cling to them before they were gone forever.

The house had always been a haven, a safe place. Now, it was being reduced to rubble. He opened his eyes, feeling the sting of unshed tears.