Gemotions

The paper crackled in Elias’s trembling hands. He reread the curt sentences: "Notice of Eviction… seven days." His stomach lurched, a cold, hard knot forming. The chipped paint of the apartment suddenly seemed oppressive, the dim light failing to penetrate the gloom. He paced, the worn floorboards groaning under his hurried steps.

The chipped mug in the sink mocked him. He needed coffee. He needed to think. But the thought of moving, of *where* he would move, was overwhelming. His breath came in shallow gasps. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair.

He picked up the phone, then slammed it back down. Who could he even call? He felt a prickling heat behind his eyes. The world seemed to shrink, closing in on him with a crushing weight. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to flee, to disappear.