Gemotions

The notice was on the kitchen counter, a stark white rectangle that ruined the morning sunlight. He picked it up, reading the words again. He already knew them by heart. "Vacancy required by…" The landlord's curt language offended him. He crumpled the paper, tossed it into the overflowing trash bin, and went to make his coffee. It was just a formality. They couldn’t actually *make* him leave.

The water boiled, the kettle screaming in protest. He poured, the aroma of the beans filling the air. He thought about the landlord, a man with a perpetually pursed mouth and a look that said everyone was trying to take advantage of him. He’d lived in this apartment for years; he wasn’t going anywhere. He slammed the mug down, a tremor running through the table.