Gemotions

The paper crackled in Amelia’s trembling hands. An eviction notice. The words swam before her eyes, blurring into a hateful, accusatory mess. Her breath hitched, catching in her throat. She reread the clauses, each one a hammer blow to her already fragile composure.

She stumbled back, knocking over a stack of bills on the kitchen counter. They scattered like fallen leaves, a fresh wave of anxiety washing over her. The rent was always late, she knew. But this felt different. Final.

“This can’t be happening,” she whispered to the empty apartment. Her hands were ice-cold, despite the late afternoon sun streaming through the window. She had to do something, anything, to make this go away. Her mind raced, a frantic hamster in a tiny wheel.