Gemotions

The paper felt thin and accusing in Amelia’s trembling hand. The words swam before her eyes, a blur of deadlines and legal jargon. Her apartment, her sanctuary, was being taken. She hadn’t slept properly since Thomas… since everything. Now this. She crumpled the notice, a silent sob escaping her lips.

She kicked at the scattered art supplies across her living room floor, remnants of a painting she'd started, abandoned, and never returned to. Sunlight, once a comfort, now seemed to mock her with its relentless cheer.

Her phone buzzed. It was her sister. She ignored it. She couldn’t face the well-meaning platitudes, the forced optimism. All she wanted was to disappear, to vanish into the dust motes dancing in the afternoon light.