Gemotions

The email arrived like a siren's call. “Your Building is Going Condo!” Ben read it, his eyes widening. A nervous giggle escaped him. He felt as though every nerve ending was crackling. He wanted to leap, to shout, to… explode.

He slammed his laptop shut, the abrupt action shocking him. He got up and began cleaning. He attacked his apartment, scrubbing the counters, wiping down the appliances, and organizing the spice rack, all with a frenzied intensity.

He needed to create order, to control something, anything. The change, the *possibility* of change, was making him want to tear something apart and put it back together. He organized his book collection, alphabetizing the authors. He paused, imagining the future. He would conquer this.