Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle, throbbed with a malevolence he couldn't explain. He crumpled it in his fist, the paper crackling like a dying fire. His apartment, his haven, was becoming a condo. He slammed the heel of his hand against the counter, the force a jarring counterpoint to the quiet dread that had settled in his chest.

He felt like a stranger in his own body. He paced, the familiar creak of the floorboards now grating on his nerves. Each step was accompanied by a fresh wave of nausea. He needed air, needed to escape the suffocating walls.

He grabbed his keys, fumbling with the lock. As he stepped out onto the sidewalk, the city noise, usually a comforting backdrop, now felt like a taunting chorus. He kept his head down, shoulders hunched, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

He called his sister, his voice trembling when he told her the news. "What am I going to do?" he whispered, the question hanging in the air. "Where will I go?"