Gemotions

The news hit Martha like a physical blow. She found the notice crumpled at the bottom of her purse, a testament to her already strained mood. She glared at the paper, then at the chipped paint on her ceiling. This building wasn't just a place to live; it was all she could afford.

Her apartment suddenly felt small and confining. The air thickened around her. She ripped the notice into tiny pieces, then scattered them across the kitchen floor. It felt good, a small act of defiance.

She felt a hot flush rising in her chest. She needed to pace. She needed to do something, anything, to release the tension.