Gemotions

The letters started arriving: offers, enticements, veiled threats. Each one landed in Elena's mailbox like a tiny, unwanted bird. She ignored them all, tossing them unopened into a drawer. The air in her apartment felt heavier, charged with a tension she couldn't quite articulate.

One afternoon, she ran into the building manager in the hallway. He greeted her with a strained smile, asking her about "the transition process." Elena simply walked past him, her back stiff.

She pulled out a favorite pot of herbs from her window, and started making a new recipe, determined to keep her home exactly as it was. No one could force her out.