Gemotions

He stared at the notice, a sterile white rectangle against the cluttered surface of the kitchen table. It was a slap in the face. His world suddenly tilted. He swallowed hard. The rent was late, he knew that. He hadn’t been paying attention. He looked at the unopened mail on the table.

His hands shook as he reached for the kettle. He needed the warmth of a drink, something to steady the tremors in his limbs. The world seemed to shrink around him. The walls of his apartment felt like they were closing in. He felt paralyzed by the thought of finding a new place, the endless cycle of paperwork, the sheer effort of it all.

He reached for his phone, his thumb hovering over a name. The call went through. After a short chat, his shoulders sagged. “Okay,” he mumbled into the phone. “Yeah, I'll see you later."