Gemotions

The realtor’s voice, upbeat and chipper, grated on Maya’s nerves. "Isn't it fantastic?" she enthused, gesturing around Maya’s cramped studio. Maya, frozen by the news, could only stare, her mouth slightly ajar. "Great investment opportunity! Prime location!" The woman’s smile was too bright, too wide.

Maya’s gaze drifted to the chipped paint on the window frame, the overflowing laundry basket in the corner. Her home. She felt an overwhelming urge to flee. She needed air, space. She wanted to yell, to scream, but only a small, strangled sound escaped her lips.

“So,” the realtor continued, oblivious, “are you interested in a viewing schedule?” Maya swallowed hard. "I... I need to think," she stammered, her voice barely audible. The realtor’s smile faltered, just slightly.