Gemotions

The afternoon sun, normally a welcome presence in her little flat, seemed to mock her. The brightness of the day felt abrasive. Her mouth was dry, her tongue thick and clumsy. She leaned against the door, clutching the notice. She tried to make sense of the situation. It all seemed impossible.

Her mind raced, a frantic search for solutions, for any glimmer of hope. She ran her hands through her hair, tangling the strands. The apartment walls, which usually felt safe and secure, began to close in, and she could hardly breathe. She wanted to scream, to lash out at someone or something.

She sank to the floor, curling up into a ball, the harsh words of the notice echoing in her head.