Gemotions

"Eviction?" John’s voice cracked as he spoke the word aloud. The landlord, a short man with a perpetually stern face, simply nodded, his expression unchanging.

John’s jaw clenched. He’d never been late on rent. He felt a rising heat in his chest, a sensation akin to rising bile.

He glanced around the small, cluttered office, looking for any clue, any hint as to what was going on. He felt like he was floating, like the world was spinning. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, the words failing to come.