Gemotions

Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold the mailer. Each sentence felt like a threat. This wasn't supposed to happen. She'd finally found a place she loved, a community that felt like family. Now, everything was about to be ripped away.

She threw the notice onto the kitchen table with a frustrated gesture. A plate of half-eaten pasta sat there, now repulsive. She couldn't even manage a bite. A cold sweat slicked her palms. She found herself repeatedly checking the locks on her front door, as if the physical act could somehow protect her from the inevitable.

Her gaze kept flicking towards the window. She felt trapped, the walls closing in. The thought of finding a new place, the endless searching, the packing and unpacking, felt utterly unbearable. She sank into a chair, overwhelmed.