Gemotions

"Everything is fine," she repeated to herself, a mantra in her head. She clutched the realtor’s glossy brochure, her knuckles white. The pictures depicted pristine kitchens, gleaming appliances, and smiling couples. It made her stomach churn.

Her current kitchen was small, the linoleum cracked, but it was hers. Her own mismatched mugs lined the windowsill. Each flaw was a comfort, a piece of her history. Now, that history was being rewritten, sanitized, and sold.

She gripped the brochure tighter, crumpling it slightly. The scent of freshly brewed coffee, usually a source of pleasure, now made her feel a sense of dread. The air felt thin, like she was struggling to breathe.