Gemotions

The notice felt like a punch to the gut. Michael stumbled back from his door, his hand still on the knob. His apartment, a haven for his beloved books and vinyl records, was now threatened. He looked at the familiar hallway, its peeling paint and creaking floorboards, and saw them in a new, disconcerting light.

He sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, his chest tight. He felt a profound sense of loss, even though nothing had actually been taken from him. He closed his eyes, replaying the last few years, the slow accumulation of memories within these walls. Each one now felt tinged with the shadow of uncertainty.

He opened his eyes, the world outside his door seeming sharper, brighter, crueler. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white.