Gemotions

He read the notice again, the ink smearing under the sweaty pressure of his thumb. Every detail, from the landlord's name to the date of eviction, seemed to carry an hidden message, a clue to some grand scheme. He felt a prickly sensation crawling over his skin.

He sat for hours, staring out the window, watching the street below. Every car, every pedestrian, was suspect. He imagined them all working together, plotting against him. He was a pawn in their game.

He blocked the door with furniture. He switched off his phone, certain that they were listening. He found a hiding spot, inside the closet, a place where he thought he would be safe. He crouched there, listening to the sounds of the night, waiting for the inevitable.