Gemotions

He read the notice again, the stark black text mocking him. "Failure to comply." Failure? He'd been here for ten years! The building was practically falling apart, and they were the ones at fault. Now, they wanted him out?

A flush heated his cheeks. He tossed the notice onto the overflowing ashtray on the coffee table. The tiny apartment felt stifling, the walls closing in. He shoved his hands in his pockets and started pacing, his boots thudding on the worn linoleum.

He refused to let them win. He wouldn't pack, he wouldn't look for a new place. He would remain in his armchair, reading his books, just as he always had. He’d make them work for it.