Gemotions

The paper trembled in Maria's hand, the harsh black ink blurring at the edges. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. She reread the words, each syllable a blow, a punch to the gut. Her breath hitched. The familiar scent of her apartment, stale air and old books, suddenly felt suffocating. Her gaze darted around the room, taking in the chipped paint on the walls, the worn rug, the overflowing laundry basket, all of it now a potential liability.

Maria’s hands went to her mouth, fingers pressed against her lips, silencing a gasp. The world tilted slightly, a dizzying disorientation that made her clutch at the edge of the kitchen table for balance. She imagined the cold, hard ground of the street. What would she do? Where would she go?

The phone on the counter rang, its shrill noise making her jump. She let it ring, each insistent beep a reminder of the life she was about to lose. Finally, she slumped into a chair, shoulders slumped, and just stared at the notice.