Gemotions

The taste of coffee was bitter on David’s tongue, reflecting the acrid taste in his mouth. He scanned the eviction notice, his eyes tracing the cold, impersonal words. He balled the paper and tossed it in the trash. He needed to leave, he felt the compulsion like a sickness in his gut.

He sat for an hour, doing nothing. The silence was deafening. He knew this would happen eventually. He found himself picking at the peeling paint on the wall. He stood up abruptly.

He grabbed his keys and left.