Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle, was taped to the lobby door. Maya read it twice, slowly, letting the information settle. Her building, The Grandview, was converting. A small sigh escaped her, not of distress, but of acceptance. She’d known this day might come.

The real estate agent, a man with overly-slicked hair and a too-bright tie, was already buzzing around the common areas, handing out glossy brochures. He caught her eye and gave a dazzling smile. Maya returned it, a gentle curve of her lips. She wasn't feeling particularly rushed to engage.

Back in her apartment, the afternoon sun spilled across her worn Persian rug. She sat in her favorite armchair, a book of poetry in her lap. The city sounds drifted up – the distant rumble of buses, the occasional siren – a familiar symphony. She opened the book, letting the words transport her. The news could wait.