Gemotions

The empty space on the bookshelf, where Anna usually kept her collection of perfectly organized books, felt like a void. Lately, her roommate, Beth, had been making a case for a pet. A hamster. A tiny, fast-moving rodent. Anna couldn't help but feel resistant.

She’d spent years perfecting the order of her life, the placement of her furniture, the quiet rhythm of her days. A hamster disrupted that.

She’d found herself obsessively cleaning. She dusted the shelves, moved the plants, and reorganized the spices in the kitchen. She felt a prickle of annoyance whenever Beth mentioned the hamster.

Later that evening, when Beth showed her the cage, Anna's jaw clenched. She needed silence. She needed to breathe. This was her space, and she'd protect it.