Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle, was taped to the lobby door. He’d almost missed it, lost in his usual morning scramble. “Conversion to Condominiums.” He’d been bracing for this, really. His hands, usually cold in the pre-dawn chill, felt strangely warm.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he took the elevator to his floor. He had spent years in this building, and thought he had seen everything. The old lady’s cats, the plumber’s endless parade of leaky faucets, and the fire drill alarms that always went off around 3 am. Now, he felt as if someone had handed him a gift.

His door clicked open, and he stepped into his familiar apartment. The sunlight poured in through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He stretched, a deep, satisfying stretch that seemed to fill his lungs entirely. He brewed a pot of coffee, humming a tune he hadn't heard in ages.