Gemotions

Her vision swam, blurring the neatly typed words of the eviction notice. The blood hammered in her ears, drowning out the chirping of the birds outside her window. This couldn't be happening. She reread it, each word a fresh wound. *Thirty days…* The thought sent a jolt of heat through her chest.

She ripped the paper in half, then again, and again, until it was a pile of useless scraps. She threw the pieces onto the floor, where they scattered around her worn armchair. She paced the length of the small living room, back and forth, the cheap linoleum cold beneath her bare feet.

“How dare they?” she whispered, her voice raw. She reached for the phone, then slammed her hand down, rejecting the impulse. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of a panicked phone call. She'd get even.