Gemotions

The woman across the desk just kept talking, her voice a soothing drone. Every bland, corporate-speak phrase felt like a physical blow. Sarah bit the inside of her cheek, a sharp, metallic taste blooming in her mouth. The eviction notice, folded neatly in front of her, was a physical weight, pressing down on her chest.

Her vision swam. She could feel a flush creeping up her neck, staining her cheeks. Her hands were ice cold, even as sweat slicked her palms. She wanted to scream, to shatter the placid politeness of the office with a torrent of raw, unadulterated rage, but she managed only a tight, forced smile.

“So,” she said, her voice strained, “that’s that, then?” The clerk's nod was the last straw.