Gemotions

“Damn,” thought Michael, staring at the small piece of paper. The landlord's words bounced around in his head: "Violation of lease." He dropped the notice and went to the fridge. He wasn’t hungry.

He opened the fridge anyway, stared at the contents. The same tired leftovers, some wilting produce. He closed the door. The apartment felt suffocating, claustrophobic.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolled through his contacts, and then put it away again. No one to call. No one he wanted to see. The silence of the apartment pressed in on him. He felt nothing.