Gemotions

“Well, well, well,” Thomas muttered, holding the notice in his hands. He tapped the paper against his teeth, a thoughtful expression on his face. The landlord was a fool.

He surveyed his tidy living room, meticulously organized. Every object held a specific purpose, every surface sparkled. He'd done everything he could to make this place a home, but it was just a staging point.

He walked over to the ancient, imposing oak desk and gave it a pat. He felt that at last, everything was in place. He had won.