Gemotions

"Condo?" she repeated, her voice thin. The word seemed to hang in the air, a tiny, poisonous seed taking root in her. Her hands felt clammy.

She walked into her kitchen and began pulling things out of the cupboards, not with purpose, but with a wild recklessness. She slammed pots and pans, letting the sounds of chaos fill the quiet apartment.

She found herself by the window, staring down at the street below. She imagined the future, the move, the disruption. The mere thought caused a deep nausea to rise up within her. She wanted to destroy everything.