Gemotions

The paper trembled in Leo's grip. He felt a peculiar lightness, as if his feet might lift off the floorboards. The landlord, Mr. Henderson, a man whose face was usually as weathered as a garden gnome, had just handed it to him. He blinked, the afternoon sun suddenly too bright through the window. "But… but the rent's paid," he stammered, the words feeling thick in his mouth. Henderson just shrugged, a dismissive gesture that only intensified the hollowness in Leo's chest. He glanced at the notice again, the stark black lettering blurring.