Gemotions

He stared at the notice, his jaw locked. A knot formed in his stomach, twisting itself tighter with each word. The landlord's curt pronouncements seemed to echo in the hallway, each syllable a hammer blow against his composure. He crushed the paper in his fist, a futile attempt at control.

His hands were clammy. He wandered through the apartment, bumping into furniture. The cheap veneer of the coffee table scraped his knuckles. He paced back and forth in front of the window, unable to settle anywhere. He felt a sudden, desperate urge to flee the building, the city, the whole state.

His voice was a strained rasp when he tried to call his sister. The phone felt heavy and foreign in his hand. “Hey, it’s… it’s me,” he croaked. He could feel the tremor in his voice, the involuntary catch in his breath.