Gemotions

“Condo, huh?” I muttered, staring at the landlord, who was now wearing a suspiciously shiny suit. “So, you’re just gonna kick us all out?” The words came out sharper than I intended.

He gave me a condescending smile. “Opportunities, Mr. Davis. It’s all about opportunities.” I grunted, my fists clenched at my sides.

The entire building felt different now. The chatter of the neighbors seemed louder, their greetings now irritatingly cheerful. I felt the urge to tell them all to shut up, to leave me alone in my misery. Even the familiar aroma of Mrs. Rodriguez’s cooking, usually a source of comfort, now smelled like a betrayal.