Gemotions

The paper felt like acid against Elias's fingertips. He crumpled it, not out of anger, but a profound sense of… something. He couldn't name it. He balled the notice up, a violent gesture, and then smoothed it out again, the crinkles whispering in the sudden silence of his apartment. His stomach churned. He hadn't paid rent in two months, but seeing it in black and white, the stark finality of it, felt like a public shaming. He avoided his neighbor, Mrs. Gable, in the hallway, pretending to be preoccupied with his shoelaces.