Gemotions

It felt like someone had unplugged the world. The building’s newsletter, with its glossy pictures of renovated units, sat on the coffee table, a physical manifestation of her unease. She kept touching it, smoothing the edges of the paper, as if trying to calm its harsh reality.

She called her best friend, the words tumbling out in a rush, a jumbled torrent of questions and worries. Her voice cracked, and she had to pause to clear her throat. The phone felt like a lifeline, but even that felt tenuous.

She stared at the cracks in the ceiling, the familiar imperfections suddenly magnified. The apartment, once home, now felt like a temporary shelter, likely to disappear at any moment.