Gemotions

The letter, thin and white, trembled in Amelia’s hand. She’d ripped it open, a jagged tear mirroring the jagged feeling in her chest. The words, penned in neat, unfamiliar script, spoke of late-night music, excessive volume. Her jaw worked, a muscle twitching near her ear. She reread the complaint, her eyes darting across the paper as if seeking a hidden threat.

She slammed the envelope onto the kitchen counter. The cheap wood vibrated under the impact. Taking a shaky breath, Amelia began to pace, her steps quick and uneven. The silence of her apartment suddenly pressed in on her, heavy and suffocating.

She grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts, pausing on the number for her bandmate, Ben. She hesitated, fingers hovering over the call button. After a moment, she slammed the phone back down. "Damn it," she muttered, the word a harsh whisper.