Gemotions

He stared at the email, the screen’s light reflecting in his narrowed eyes. “Important Announcement Regarding Your Tenancy.” The subject line felt like a personal insult. He clicked the delete button, then immediately, compulsively, retrieved the email from the trash folder.

A muscle ticked in the corner of his jaw. He reread the terms, each sentence a fresh irritant. His fingers tightened into fists. He had lived in this building for fifteen years; he knew the creaks of the floorboards better than the management did.

He thought of the mandatory open houses, the intrusive inspections. He pictured the shiny, soulless lobbies, the generic landscaping. He would stay, he decided. He wouldn’t go. He would make them want him gone. He would start with a strongly worded email. And then, he would see.