Gemotions

He read the notice, his lips curling with a distinct lack of amusement. The landlord’s handwriting, childish and overly enthusiastic, filled him with an involuntary shiver. “Eviction,” it read, in bold letters, like the dolt thought it was some kind of exciting announcement. He crumpled it with an audible crunch, then tossed it into the overflowing bin, barely missing the side of it. Useless.

His jaw clenched as he surveyed the apartment. Everything felt cheap, the paint peeling, the furniture secondhand. He hated this place. The feeling settled low in his gut, a cold, hard knot. He wouldn’t be staying in a place this pathetic anyway.

He grabbed his phone and scrolled through his contacts, a smirk tugging at his lips. He was in no rush to deal with this nonsense. It was just a minor inconvenience, like a pesky gnat buzzing around his head.