Gemotions

The eviction notice landed with a dull thud on the pristine surface of Eleanor's antique writing desk. She didn't even bother to look up from the manuscript she was editing. The landlord, a pompous man named Mr. Abernathy, always seemed to delight in bothering her. She heard a car door slam outside, indicating he was waiting.

She carefully sharpened her pencil, the graphite leaving a dark streak on the paper. Let him stew. She’d outlast him. She'd write a character so loathsome, so petty, so thoroughly unpleasant, that he'd be the spitting image. She'd dedicate the book to his… *generosity*.