Gemotions

The paper, crisp and white, sat on the chipped kitchen table. It whispered of deadlines and displacement. Amelia, hair tangled from sleep, reached for it with a hand that felt oddly heavy. The words swam before her eyes, a blur of legalese she didn't possess the energy to dissect. She sighed, a small puff of air that seemed to deflate her further.

The coffee, still hot in the mug, tasted like lukewarm dishwater. She didn’t bother to add any milk or sugar. The eviction notice remained unopened. She eventually set the mug down on the table, the ceramic thud echoing strangely in the quiet apartment.

She wandered to the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. Each drop seemed to represent a lost opportunity, a forgotten battle. She watched them, not moving to do anything about them.