Gemotions

"No," Mark muttered under his breath, the word barely audible. He ran a hand across his face, scrubbing at his eyes as if to wipe away the reality of the notice. The corners of the paper curled in his grip. The words were a bitter pill he couldn't swallow.

He wandered through the apartment, each room now a reminder of what he might lose. The worn armchair he’d spent countless hours in, the bookshelf filled with his favorite stories, the photographs on the wall – everything now seemed tainted with a sense of impending loss.

He felt the familiar sting of tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He quickly blinked them away. He couldn't fall apart. Not now. He needed to figure out what to do.