Gemotions

A wave of well-being coursed through Marco as he stretched, the morning air tickling his skin through the open window. He had slept deeply for the first time in weeks. Even the incessant dripping from the leaky faucet, usually a source of annoyance, sounded almost melodic. He was halfway through his second cup of coffee when the official-looking envelope slid under his door. He picked it up, expecting a bill. Instead, a stark message about owing several months rent. His shoulders slumped. Then, a slow, surprising smile crept across his face. "Freedom," he whispered to the walls, his voice ringing.