Gemotions

The first sign was the realtor's sign in front of the building. Then the flyers. Now, the emails. Leo’s apartment felt wrong. Suddenly it was not his safe harbor, but a temporary space.

He started smoking again, a habit he'd finally kicked. The acrid smell of the smoke filled the small rooms, mirroring the bitterness welling up inside him. He snapped at the cat, a usually placid creature.

He wandered the halls, listening to the muffled sounds of his neighbors, each sound an intrusion. He was pacing. All he could think about was the future, an uncertainty that filled him with dread. He avoided the other residents, their polite smiles, their cheerful conversations, all of them a painful reminder of what he was losing.