Gemotions

The letter felt icy in Elias’s grasp. He had lived in this building for fifteen years. He felt a sharp pang of… something. He quickly checked the locks on his front door, twice. Then again.

He grabbed his keys and wallet. He *had* to go for a walk. He needed space, air. The air in his apartment was suddenly stale and oppressive.

Outside, he found himself scrutinizing every passerby, every parked car. He kept checking over his shoulder. The familiar streets felt unfamiliar, altered by the sudden disruption of his routine.