Gemotions

"Eviction?" Brenda repeated, her voice laced with a saccharine sweetness that made the property manager, a young man named Kevin, visibly squirm. She let the paper fall onto the counter, fluttering like a dead butterfly. Kevin stammered, offering a vague explanation about unpaid rent.

Brenda crossed her arms, the expensive silk of her blouse rustling. She surveyed the tiny, cramped office, the chipped paint, the cheap furniture. The nerve of these people, she thought. To think *she* couldn’t afford the rent. This place was barely fit for a stray cat.

“Well, Kevin,” she said, her smile never faltering, "I suppose I could leave." Her gaze drifted to the framed photograph of Kevin’s family on the desk. "But it would be a shame, wouldn't it? Such a lovely office. Such… *pleasant* working conditions." She’d make him regret this, every single moment of it.