Gemotions

“Impossible,” she said, her voice a low, strangled rasp. Emily slammed the door of her apartment, the sound reverberating through the thin walls. The notice fluttered to the floor like a fallen, wounded bird.

She paced the length of her tiny living room, her steps rapid and erratic. Her palms were slick with sweat. She imagined confronting the landlord, spewing out every insult she could muster, letting it all out.

She grabbed a vase, considering throwing it against the wall, but instead, she set it down again, the act a small victory against the chaos that threatened to consume her.