Gemotions

The eviction notice lay open on the kitchen counter, its bold typeface a jarring contrast to the gentle morning light streaming through the window. "Not again," he whispered, his voice hoarse. He sat heavily at the table, the old wooden surface cool against his hands.

He looked around the room, taking in every detail. The faded paint on the walls, the chipped tiles on the floor, the mismatched furniture. It wasn't much, but it was his. The world beyond the window seemed distant and unwelcoming.

His thoughts drifted to his childhood, to the house he grew up in. Memories, like ghosts, danced around him. He'd never really learned to navigate the world. He felt like a castaway, adrift in a sea of uncertainty.