Gemotions

The flyer, plastered crookedly onto the lobby door, practically vibrated with smugness. *Conversion to Condominiums! Opportunity Knocks!* Sarah crumpled it in her fist, the paper crackling like a dying fire. The building, with its perpetually flickering hallway lights and water stains on the ceiling of her bathroom, was hardly an opportunity. She stomped up the stairs, skipping the elevator that was always broken, her jaw tight. This meant a new mortgage, moving costs, and the endless parade of open houses. She could already picture the sleek, soulless renovations they’d inflict, replacing the chipped paint with something sterile and trendy.