Gemotions

He stared at the letter, a knot forming in his stomach. Michael had been here for eight years, an eternity in a city of transient souls. The scent of coffee from the deli downstairs, the rhythmic clanging of the garbage trucks, the familiar creak of the floorboards – all of it, suddenly, felt fragile.

He went to the window, and leaned his forehead against the cool glass. The city, usually a source of energy and excitement, now felt overwhelming. His breath hitched as he took in the familiar view. He thought of his late wife, and how she'd loved the apartment.

His hands clenched. It felt like a betrayal, not just of his living situation, but of everything he held dear. He felt a deep, hollow ache in his chest. He was lost.