Gemotions

The notice felt heavy in Amelia’s hand, a physical burden. She read it again, her eyes stinging. The tenant was Mr. Davies, the quiet, gentle man who fed the stray cats in the alley. The image of the cats, their soft fur and silent need, flooded her mind.

Amelia looked out the window at the empty alley, imagining Mr. Davies' absence, the cats left unfed. She remembered seeing him, crouched on the ground, his face lit up with gentle caring. The thought of the cats suffering, of Mr. Davies’ displacement, felt wrong, fundamentally unjust.

Amelia felt a profound weariness, a deep sense of sadness, an exhaustion that ran bone deep. She sighed and slowly went to her drawer to grab a couple of cans of cat food.