Gemotions

The announcement had been taped to the elevator door, the bold font almost yelling at her. Amelia closed her eyes, trying to conjure the image of the building as it was. The shared laundry room on the first floor, the smell of freshly baked bread from Mr. Chen’s apartment, the friendly banter in the stairwell. All that, vanishing.

She pictured the elderly couple on the top floor, with their slow-moving ways and the radio always tuned to the classical station. They would be crushed. She knew they lived on a very fixed income.

That evening, she found herself lingering in the hallway outside their apartment, unsure what to say, what comfort to offer. She knocked lightly, and the door creaked open. They looked at her expectantly. She felt a lump form in her throat and found herself talking, her voice wavering, about how unfair it all was.