Gemotions

The eviction notice lay spread on the kitchen table, a stark white testament to disaster. Her hands were ice cold, even though the apartment was stiflingly warm. She kept reaching for it, then snatching her hand back, as if the paper were venomous.

She glared at the toaster, the microwave, the kettle – all the appliances she might not get to use again. A bitter laugh escaped her. This was just her luck, always.

She began pacing, back and forth, the same worn path across the linoleum. Her head was a whirlwind of anxieties, the possibilities endless and all of them bleak.