Gemotions

The notice was a white rectangle, sharp and unwelcome, protruding from the chaotic pile of mail. Sarah let it sit on the counter for a full hour, the fluorescent kitchen light buzzing overhead. She eventually picked it up with a trembling hand, the paper feeling rough against her fingertips. Her stomach clenched. Another Tuesday, another wave of dread.

She moved through the apartment like a ghost, the worn carpet muffling her footsteps. She stared out the window, at the gray city, at the endless flow of indifferent traffic. Her reflection in the glass looked hollow, her eyes ringed with shadows. A sigh escaped her, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of the entire building.

“Just another thing,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The thought looped in her head, a broken record, the feeling of lead in her chest growing heavier with each rotation. She knew she should start packing. She knew she should call her sister. She just couldn’t bring herself to do anything.