Gemotions

He spat on the sidewalk as he read the notice. "Exclusive Lifestyle!" it blared, plastered over the peeling brick. He felt a burning sensation in his throat, like bile rising. His landlord, a man whose smile always seemed too wide, had finally done it.

He walked past the overflowing dumpster, the stink suddenly overwhelming. The idea of new residents, people who would judge his worn furniture and his overflowing bookshelves, gnawed at him.

He slammed his front door, the sound echoing in the hollow silence of the hallway. He felt the need to wash his hands, to wash off the feeling of being tainted. He looked at his own apartment, once a sanctuary, and it felt like a cage.