Gemotions

He stared at the "Welcome to the Future" sign plastered in the lobby, a sarcastic grin plastered on his face. The building’s management, always a bit shady, was now promising "luxury living." Ben ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn’t noticed he'd adopted.

He'd lived in this building for fifteen years, since his divorce. The cheap rent had been a lifeline. Now, the potential for being forced out felt like another blow. He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around him, a temporary shield against the disquiet.

Ben walked up to his apartment, the steps creaking under his weight, the dim hall lit by a single bulb. The thought of finding a new place, the packing, the upheaval, made his head ache. He closed the door, the click echoing in the sudden silence.