Gemotions

The elevator doors opened onto her floor, and a sharp, almost painful thud resonated in her chest as she approached her apartment. She clutched the grocery bags, her knuckles white. The note was taped to her door. A simple, innocuous rectangle, yet it felt like a declaration of war.

She leaned against the door, the bags threatening to spill. Her vision blurred, and the world seemed to tilt. The familiar scent of her apartment, usually a balm, now felt suffocating.

"No, no, no," she breathed, the words catching in her throat. Her legs wobbled, and she had to lean against the wall for support. The thought of being evicted, of finding a new place in this brutal market, left her weak.