Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, usually a comfort, now felt like a cruel joke. James sat at his kitchen table, the newspaper spread before him, the news of the building’s conversion a dark stain on the morning. The coffee cup felt heavy in his hand.

He had always loved the character of his apartment, the creaky floors, the way the sunlight streamed through the windows in the mornings. It was a place where he could be himself. Now, that sanctuary was being ripped away.

He pushed the newspaper away, the gesture of dismissal mirroring the way he felt about the day, about the future. His appetite vanished. He slowly turned his head to look at the window, not seeing the world outside.