Gemotions

Eliza walked down the hallway, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Every footstep echoed in the empty corridor of her apartment building. It was the same rhythm, day after day. The building's impending conversion hung in the air, a physical weight on her shoulders. She wanted a new job, a new city, anything to shake the monotony.

Her hand drifted to the doorknob of her apartment. Each morning she left, each evening she returned. The same routines, the same objects, the same view. Her apartment, once a haven, had become a cage of familiarity.

She pushed open the door, then closed it behind her, the lock clicking with a definitive sound. The stale air of her apartment hit her. She felt like something was holding her down, keeping her from rising above. There was no escape. She sank onto the couch, the same one she’d sat on every night for the past five years.