Gemotions

The crisp white paper of the eviction notice crinkled in Amelia’s hand as she crushed it further. The landlady, Mrs. Gable, claimed unpaid rent. Lies, all lies. Amelia knew she’d paid, she had the receipts. She’d show that old bat.

Her jaw clenched, feeling a tremor run through it. She marched back into her apartment and slammed the door, the flimsy wood rattling in its frame. Inside, the place was a mess. Dishes piled in the sink, laundry overflowing the basket. She didn't care. Not now.

She threw the crumpled paper onto the kitchen table, then sat across from it, arms crossed. She’d wait. Let them come. They’d get an earful, she thought, picturing the startled look on Mrs. Gable’s face. She would remain right here, unmoving.