Gemotions

The morning light, dappled through the kitchen window, warmed Amelia's face as she sipped her tea. It was Earl Grey, precisely brewed, the fragrant steam a comforting embrace. She watched a hummingbird flit amongst the geraniums on her balcony, its tiny wings a blur. A gentle smile played on her lips as she considered her day: a leisurely walk in the park, perhaps a new book from the library. The quiet hum of the refrigerator was a familiar, unobtrusive companion.

The letter, tucked under her front door, felt like a jarring note in an otherwise perfect symphony. "Condo Conversion," it announced, in bold, ominous letters. Amelia picked it up, her fingers tracing the crisp edges of the paper. She set it on the table, still unopened, the hummingbird's insistent buzzing suddenly amplified.

She continued to sit at her table, untouched. Eventually she put her cup in the sink and walked to her favorite chair. The sunlight was perfect, warm across her skin.