Gemotions

Eliza stared out the window, the city lights blurring through a film of unshed tears. The "Welcome to Your New Home: Now a Condo!" flyer mocked her. This building. This view. This tiny space was all she'd known for over a decade.

A sudden tremor ran through her, a wave of familiar physical sensation, a yearning for something just out of reach. She went to the kitchen and made a cup of chamomile tea, her hands moving through the motions automatically, but her mind a million miles away.

She found herself back in the doorway to her bedroom, tracing the outline of her name she'd painstakingly etched into the doorframe when she'd first moved in as a wide-eyed college student. The wood was faded now, the ink bled, but the gesture – the youthful exuberance behind it – still made her smile through a new wave of emotion.