Gemotions

Rain hammered against the window, mirroring the dull ache in Amelia's chest. She hadn't bothered to draw the blinds, letting the grey seep into the already dim apartment. The notice from the landlord sat on the chipped kitchen table, a crisp white rectangle that seemed to mock her. Condo conversion. The words swam before her eyes, blurring into a symbol of all the change she hadn’t asked for, and didn’t want.

She dragged herself to the fridge, grabbing a carton of orange juice. The carton felt strangely heavy in her hand. She poured a glass, the pulp settling at the bottom, and took a tentative sip. The sweetness did nothing to lift the weight she carried.

Amelia glanced at her phone. The screen displayed a string of unopened messages. She felt a profound lack of energy to respond to any of them. Sighing, she left the phone where it lay and went to stare out the rain-streaked window.