Gemotions

The crisp white paper trembled in Amelia’s hand, the stark black letters blurring slightly. Eviction. Mrs. Gable, her neighbor, had always been so meticulously kind, offering her freshly baked cookies and sharing stories of her late husband. Amelia felt a pang in her chest, a sudden, sharp ache.

She immediately walked down the hallway, the linoleum cold beneath her bare feet. Knocking softly on Mrs. Gable's door, she waited, her knuckles pale against the wood. The door creaked open, revealing Mrs. Gable's weary face.

"Oh, Amelia," Mrs. Gable said, her voice raspy. "Come in, dear."

Inside, the small apartment felt heavy with a sense of defeat. Amelia spotted the eviction notice on the kitchen table. Instead of addressing the issue, she sat and listened. She remained silent as Mrs. Gable spoke, and listened to the woman's troubles, the financial strain, the loneliness.

Amelia left Mrs. Gable’s apartment some time later and went back to her own apartment. She immediately began to browse for some available programs and organizations that might be able to help.