Gemotions

The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated Leo's face as he read. He was curled into a ball under the duvet, the book resting comfortably in his lap. The rain outside tapped a steady rhythm against the windowpane, a soothing counterpoint to the rustling of pages. He took a deep breath, the scent of old paper and ink filling his lungs.

The insistent buzz of the intercom startled him. He sighed, slowly unfolding himself. He shuffled to the door and, through the peephole, saw the stern face of his landlord, holding a white envelope.

He opened the door. The man handed him the notice with a curt nod. Leo took it, his fingers brushing against the cold metal of the door. He didn’t meet the man's eyes.

Back inside, he closed the door, leaning against it for a moment, letting the sound of rain wash over him. He walked back to his book, placed the notice under a small stone he'd found on the beach, and resumed his reading. He smiled at a witty line, the tension he had not been aware of dissipating.