Gemotions

The crisp white paper felt accusatory in her trembling hands. Eviction notice. Right. As if. She scanned the document again, the official-looking font blurring around the edges. Her heart hammered a frantic tattoo against her ribs. This was a prank. It had to be.

She strode to the window, peering out at the familiar, drab brick of the building across the alley. The sun beat down, turning the grimy air a shimmering haze. No moving vans. No ominous figures lurking in the shadows. Just the regular, mundane chaos of a Tuesday afternoon.

A wry chuckle escaped her lips. This was a low-rent joke, a pathetic attempt to rattle her. She crumpled the paper, the sound sharp and defiant in the quiet apartment. Tomorrow, she'd march down to the landlord's office and find out who thought this charade was amusing.