Gemotions

The new doorman, a stern-faced man in a crisp uniform, made Arthur feel like a trespasser in his own home. Arthur usually greeted him with a friendly wave, but now, he found himself ducking his head and hurrying past, as if trying to avoid detection. He kept his head down.

He started taking the stairs instead of the elevator, avoiding the public display of his worn sneakers and the faded logo on his t-shirt. He spent more time in the park, the open air a welcome escape from the suffocating pressure of his building.

Inside his apartment, he kept the blinds drawn. The sudden shift in atmosphere had left him disoriented, and the familiar walls felt foreign and judgey. He ate his instant noodles in the dark.