Gemotions

She slammed the door of her apartment a little harder than usual. The sound echoed in the hallway, a small act of rebellion against the corporate sterility of the building. The notice had been delivered this morning, a glossy announcement that promised luxury and "lifestyle upgrades." She spat the words silently.

She paced the length of her tiny living room, each footstep a frustrated thump on the worn wooden floor. Every feature was a reminder of her predicament. She had a view of a brick wall, peeling wallpaper, a leaking faucet. Now, she would be expected to pay for something new.

She felt a hot flush creep up her neck. She’d always loved her apartment. It wasn't fancy, but it was hers, a sanctuary from the city's ceaseless demands. Now, the landlords wanted her out. She could feel the tightening in her chest. She had to find a new place.