Gemotions

He stared at the eviction notice, his eyes narrowed. He imagined the landlord, a man he'd always found irritating, a self-important drone. He imagined his face, the smugness wiped away.

He ripped the paper in half, then in quarters, then in smaller and smaller pieces, until only fragments remained. The act offered no satisfaction.

He wanted to lash out, to punish. He walked outside and kicked the mailbox. Its metal shell didn’t even budge. The disappointment felt like a physical blow.