Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle, trembled slightly in Amelia's grasp. It felt like a small, icy hand had just settled on the back of her neck. The words, "Conversion to Condominiums," blurred slightly through her watery eyes. She reread it a dozen times, the meaning sinking deeper with each pass, a heavy stone in her stomach.

She jammed the flyer into her purse, her fingers fumbling with the clasp. Her breath hitched, a series of shallow gasps. She glanced at the worn, faded brick facade of the building, suddenly seeing its imperfections with a new, unwelcome clarity. A wave of unease washed over her, making her yearn for the comforting familiarity of her apartment.

Amelia quickened her pace, the click of her heels echoing too loudly on the sidewalk. She needed to get inside, to lock the door, to find a place of sanctuary. The thought of change, of losing her haven, sent a cold shiver down her spine.