Gemotions

The notice taped to the lobby door fluttered in the breeze from the open front door. Sarah ripped it down, folding it repeatedly, a nervous tic she’d developed over the past week. The words ‘Condo Conversion’ swam before her eyes. She wanted to be *done* with this already. She crumpled the paper into a tight ball, shoving it into her already overflowing handbag. Her foot tapped a rapid rhythm against the worn linoleum as she waited for the elevator, which always felt slower than usual.

Finally, the doors clanked open. She punched the button for her floor with excessive force, the metal groaning under her fingertip. The ascent seemed to crawl. She imagined all the renovations, the higher monthly payments, the endless stream of open houses. A fresh wave of heat bloomed in her chest.

Reaching her apartment, she slammed the door shut, the force of it rattling the already loose picture frames on the wall. She paced her living room, her mind racing. She had a mortgage broker to call, a lawyer to find. There was a mountain of work looming, and she felt a knot of tightness in her jaw.