Gemotions

The elevator doors opened, and the glossy flyer slapped her in the face. She stumbled backwards, her heart rate spiking. She couldn't breathe. The air in the hallway felt thick and heavy.

She ripped the flyer from its place and crumpled it in her hand, the paper crunching loudly. It felt like a physical manifestation of her own fear. Every muscle in her body tensed. She fumbled with her keys, finally unlocking the door and rushing inside.

Her apartment felt different, tainted. She kicked off her shoes and immediately switched on the television, hoping the noise would distract her, but the images flickered meaninglessly before her eyes. The familiar furniture seemed alien, mocking her with their perceived impermanence. She started pacing, her steps quick and agitated, like a caged animal.