Gemotions

He found it taped to his door. A flash of white against the peeling paint. Mark felt a slight tightness in his chest, more from the surprise of seeing it than anything else. He detached the notice, folding it neatly. He glanced around the hallway, at the stained carpet and the flickering fluorescent light, then unlocked the door.

Inside, the dim light barely illuminated the sparsely furnished room. He dropped the folded paper on the coffee table and stretched, his back popping in a way that always felt satisfying. He shrugged off his jacket and left it on the couch, next to a stack of unwashed clothes. He flipped the television on, his attention drifting to the screen.