Gemotions

Her mouth was a tight line, her eyes narrowed. The crisp paper felt cold and repulsive. The landlord, a man with a perpetually condescending expression, had finally reached his goal. “I’ll show him,” she thought, her teeth grinding together.

She tore the notice into tiny pieces, then scattered the fragments onto the floor. She grabbed her favorite mug, the one with the chipped handle, and flung it against the wall, the ceramic shattering into a million pieces.

She started pacing, her hands clenched into fists, her mind racing, plotting.