Gemotions

"Condo?!" She nearly shrieked, her voice cracking. The realtor’s cheerful tone, full of promises of "luxury" and "investment opportunity," grated on her nerves. She wanted to scream.

She clutched the edge of the kitchen table, her knuckles white. "What about the rent control?" she finally managed to ask, her voice tight. The realtor just smiled.

Later, she paced her living room. The worn rug, the mismatched furniture, were a comfort to her, not a sign of some lack of taste. They were home. This sudden change, this push for "improvement", felt like a personal attack.