Gemotions

“Condo conversion,” the words on the notice sang to Elena. The idea of permanence, of stability, was a welcome thought. She could see herself growing old here, surrounded by the things she loved.

She spent the afternoon cleaning, each swipe of the mop a step forward. Her energy returned as she imagined painting the walls, replacing the worn carpet. The thought of choosing her own colors, her own style, was exhilarating.

She poured herself a glass of wine and sat on her balcony, gazing at the city lights. This apartment, this life, felt attainable, solid. She couldn’t stop smiling. She had a feeling everything would be alright.