Gemotions

The notice lay on the kitchen table, a beacon of unwelcome information. The words blurred slightly as Clara's vision misted over with unshed tears. She felt a tremor in her hands, her shoulders hunched inwards, as if protecting herself from a physical blow.

She re-read the accusations, each word a cruel jab. Late payment? Impossible. She had automatic payments set up. Unexplained damage? Preposterous! This was her home, her sanctuary, and she treated it with the utmost care.

Clara pushed herself away from the table, feeling a cold wave of disappointment wash over her. It was a blatant dismissal of everything she had tried to do. She grabbed her coat, ready to put a stop to this.