Gemotions

The realtor’s words, a practiced stream of upbeat jargon, washed over her. She tried to follow along, nodding occasionally, but the information just bounced off, leaving her feeling utterly disoriented.

She kept fiddling with the strap of her bag, her fingers tracing the worn leather. The realtor was explaining the benefits of equity, of appreciating assets. Her apartment – her home – was being reduced to figures and projections.

She felt like a stranger in her own skin. The space around her, normally so familiar, seemed to distort, the walls of her apartment twisting. The realtor’s smile was too bright, too wide.