Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside Marcus. He hated change. His landlord was an oblivious, jovial man, always whistling a happy tune. Now, the jovial man had sent him a notice. Condo conversion. Marcus, though, was not jovial. He spent the next few days strategically leaving his trash bags overflowing in the hallway, the stench a silent declaration of war. He also began parking his old, dented pickup truck directly in front of the building’s entrance, even though he knew it made it difficult for others.