Gemotions

The flyer, tucked under her door, felt heavy in Amelia's hand. She peered at the glossy paper, the smiling faces of strangers promising an investment opportunity. She barely understood the words, but the glossy photographs filled her with unease. She hated change. She loved her apartment; it had character.

She carried the flyer into her kitchen, setting it on the counter. She pulled out a chair and sat down, staring at it. Her heartbeat quickened. She felt a sudden need to clean, to scrub and order things. She stared in silence, a frown etched on her face. With a sigh, she began washing dishes. The rhythmic clinking of the plates and the hot water seemed to have a small, calming effect.