Gemotions

The world seemed to shrink around her. The once-familiar scent of stale pizza and yesterday's laundry in the building's hallway now choked her. The announcement, tucked under her door, felt like a death knell. She couldn't afford to move. She couldn't afford anything, really.

She pulled the worn couch cushions apart, searching. Her fingers fumbled uselessly through loose change, forgotten receipts. Her eyes burned, her throat ached with a pain she refused to acknowledge. The apartment, her refuge, her only true possession, was now under threat.

She slumped onto the floor, pulling her knees to her chest. Her head spun, the room swaying in time with her ragged breaths. Each inhale was a struggle; each exhale, a sigh of pure defeat.