Gemotions

The words on the notice blurred before Sarah's eyes. It was like a physical blow. Her fingers flew to her chest, where her heart hammered against her ribs. She was unable to sit. She needed to do something.

She began cleaning, scrubbing the kitchen sink with a force that surprised even herself. The act provided a brief, temporary release. Then, unsatisfied, she moved on to the bathroom, attacking the mildew with a cleaner that stung her nostrils. The air was thick with the chemical smell.

She slammed the cleaning supplies onto the counter. Her throat felt tight. She started gathering items, stuffing them into boxes. The futility of it all crashed down on her. The apartment felt like a tomb. She stopped, gasping for breath, the weight of her predicament pressing down on her.