Gemotions

The words on the page blurred. I felt a surge of heat rush up my neck. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. “Condominium Conversion.” It wasn’t just a notice; it felt like an accusation. My hands started to sweat, dampening the paper.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the strands stick to my clammy forehead. My breath came in shallow, rapid gasps. The walls suddenly seemed to shrink, pressing in on me.

I gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, using it for support. I wanted to scream, to lash out, but all I could manage was a low, involuntary whimper. The apartment, once my haven, now felt like a cage.