Gemotions

The paper crackled like a tiny fire in Agnes's trembling hand. Her jaw clenched so hard she thought her teeth might shatter. This was absurd. She’d always paid on time. Always. She read the notice again, the curt, formal language a slap in the face. She slammed the paper onto the kitchen table, the sudden noise echoing in the small apartment. Her cheeks burned.

The landlord, Mr. Henderson, was a fool. She’d known him for years, since before her husband had passed. Now he thought he could just... dismiss her? She snatched her purse from the hook by the door and marched outside, the cold October air stinging her face.

She stormed down the street toward the grocery store, her steps heavy and deliberately loud. She needed to buy a loaf of bread, but the simple task felt like a defiant act. She glared at anyone who met her gaze, daring them to say something. The bread, when she finally got it, felt like a weapon in her grip.