Gemotions

He slammed the notice down on the counter, the force making the coffee mugs rattle. His jaw clenched so tight he could feel the muscles strain. He didn’t bother to read it again. He knew the words, the accusations, the inevitable conclusion. He'd known this was coming.

His apartment, once a sanctuary, now felt like a cage. The familiar scent of old books and brewing coffee was tainted with a bitter undertone. He walked to the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. Every drop seemed like a hammer blow.

A phone rang, and he flinched, his heart thudding against his ribs. He ignored it. He needed space, time to figure out what to do. His fingers drummed a frantic rhythm on the windowsill. The weight of his impending displacement pressed down.