Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Amelia tossed the crumpled paper, detailing the condo conversion, into the recycling bin with a violent gesture. The world felt too slow. The prospect of dealing with this felt like an enormous, looming obstacle.

She walked through her apartment, her vision tracing the outlines of the familiar rooms. Each step felt deliberate, yet she wanted to fast forward through this entire process. She found herself staring at the clock on the microwave, willing the seconds to tick faster.

Her shoulders slumped. She hated waiting. Waiting for the market to calm, waiting for an offer, waiting to get on with things. Her breath came in shallow, frustrated bursts.