Gemotions

The words on the notice blurred, the ink seeming to bleed and seep into the paper, into his very soul. He felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him pale and clammy. His mouth was dry, his throat constricted. He couldn’t swallow.

He looked around the room, as if seeing it for the last time. Every object, from the chipped coffee mug to the faded photograph, seemed to hold a secret, a hidden meaning. The ticking of the clock on the wall amplified the frantic beat of his heart.

He pulled the blinds shut, plunging the apartment into a dim, uneasy darkness. The world outside was a threat, a predator. He lay on the floor, listening for any sign of intrusion, every creak and groan of the building making him jump, convinced he was under surveillance.