Gemotions

The cold seeped into Thomas’s bones. He’d tried to ignore the notice, but the words still haunted him. He stared at the eviction notice, the black ink a permanent stain on his future. He sat in the worn armchair, the springs digging into his back, and stared at the dust motes dancing in the sunlight, suddenly feeling the weight of the day, the week, the year.

The apartment, once a haven, now felt like a cage. He’d had chances. He’d squandered them all. He ran his hand over his face, feeling the rough texture of his unshaven cheek. The image of the landlord's face flashed in his mind.

He closed his eyes. He wished he could go back and do it all again, and right his wrongs.