Gemotions

"Condo conversion," Brenda repeated, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. She'd always rented, always felt a sense of impermanence. But this was different. This wasn't just a move; this was… a crumbling of her foundation. Her apartment had been her cocoon.

She'd lived here for so long, she had gotten to know the rhythms of the building. She knew when the garbage truck came, when Mrs. Gable watered her plants, when the couple upstairs fought. Her life revolved around these routines. She didn’t know how to navigate the world without that structure.

She felt a physical ache in her chest. A wave of nausea rolled through her. She clutched the edge of her kitchen counter, the cool granite a small comfort. She needed… someone to tell her what to do.