Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle, clung to the lobby door like a particularly aggressive Post-it. Elara squinted, her brow furrowing as she reread the bold black text: "Conversion to Condominium Ownership." Ownership? She rented. Had for six years. The details blurred before her eyes, a jumble of legalese and jargon. A cold dread crept up her spine, tightening her chest. She pushed open the door, her footsteps echoing in the suddenly cavernous space.

Her fingers fumbled with her keys as she unlocked her apartment, the familiar click oddly unsettling. The scent of her own stale coffee seemed different, alien. She wandered from room to room, touching surfaces, as if trying to ground herself. The chipped paint on the living room wall, the worn rug under her feet – these were things she knew. Now, they felt…unstable. A dizzy spell washed over her, and she gripped the counter for support.