Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle clipped to her door, felt cold against her fingertips. "Conversion to Condominiums." She knew this day would come, of course. Everything eventually changed. Still, the reality of it, the concrete certainty of it, made her chest feel tight, like a fist was slowly closing inside.

She walked slowly through her apartment, a space she'd called home for twenty-two years. She ran her hand along the worn wooden frame of the doorway, tracing the familiar grooves and imperfections. It had housed so many memories: laughter, tears, late-night talks, quiet mornings with coffee and a book.

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She’d always loved that light, how it changed with the seasons. Now, someone else would likely be enjoying that very same view, perhaps soon, but with entirely different feelings.

She pulled out a box from the back of the closet. Inside were old photographs, letters, ticket stubs. Each one a tiny portal back to a different version of herself, a different chapter of her life. A smile tugged at her lips, even as a single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.