Gemotions

"Condo conversion," Maria muttered, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. She clutched the notice in her hand, her knuckles white. Her breath hitched. Her apartment, her sanctuary, was being taken from her. She sank onto the edge of the worn sofa, the springs protesting her weight. The place felt different now.

She remembered the day she found this place. It was a haven from her past. Each corner, each room held a piece of her history, of her life. Now, that life was being dismantled.

She looked around, her eyes glossing over. The vibrant colors of her artwork, the worn rug underfoot, the sunlight streaming in the window - all seemed muted, fading away. The warmth within her was rapidly diminishing.