Gemotions

"Condo... conversion?" Elias repeated, his voice barely a whisper. He reread the notice plastered on the lobby door. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to hide. The chipped paint on the walls seemed to mock him. The worn carpet, his silent companion for years, suddenly felt like a liability. He imagined the prospective buyers, their pristine shoes clicking on the hallway floor, and wanted to vanish. He backed away from the notice, as if it were a venomous snake, and retreated into the relative safety of his apartment.