Gemotions

The landlord’s words echoed in Leo's ears: "You have thirty days." He was standing in the doorway of his apartment, the crisp autumn air a sharp contrast to the stale air within. He felt a deep weariness settle over him, a physical weight that pressed down on his shoulders. He didn’t know what to do.

He walked over to his bookshelf and pulled out a volume of poetry. He sat on the floor and opened the book, staring at the words but unable to concentrate. The silence of the apartment seemed to amplify the feeling in his chest. A feeling that he struggled to name, but felt acutely.

He went to the window, watching the leaves swirl in the wind, a solitary dance mirroring his own. He watched the other apartments; people inside eating with their families, laughing together. He could not do these things.