Gemotions

She saw the listing while she was supposed to be working. The headline, in bold, cheerful font: "Charming Colonial! Perfect Family Home!" Her hand tightened on the mouse. Her chest felt constricted, as if a band was tightening around it.

It had been decades. So long that the memories felt like something she'd read in a book. Still, the photographs – the familiar angles of the rooms, the crooked window in the upstairs bedroom – sparked a flicker of something she’d thought extinguished. A sudden, sharp pang of something she couldn't name.

She leaned back in her chair, the springs groaning in protest. The air in her office felt thick, heavy. She felt a bone-deep reluctance to move. The day stretched before her, an unyielding expanse of obligations and responsibilities. The house was just another thing.