Gemotions

"This isn't happening," she whispered, crumpling the eviction notice in her fist. Her stomach clenched, a physical manifestation of her worry. The small apartment, with its worn, familiar furniture, seemed to shrink around her.

She thought of Mrs. Gable, the elderly woman from the apartment next door. Mrs. Gable, who always left a plate of cookies on her doorstep around the holidays. Mrs. Gable, who was probably just as lonely as she was.

She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts, settling on her landlord’s number. “Hello, Mr. Henderson? This is Sarah from apartment 3B. I know… I understand the situation.” Her voice was soft, apologetic. “Could we… could we maybe discuss this? Perhaps a payment plan? I’m willing to do anything.”