Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the street art outside her window seemed muted, the usual cacophony of street noise strangely quiet. She had been humming all morning. But now, it was gone. She felt a tightening in her chest, a physical pressure. The coffee she had brewed tasted metallic.

"Condo conversion," she mumbled, the words sticking in her throat. Her apartment, once a sanctuary, now seemed to shrink, the walls closing in. She felt a need to gather her things, to protect what little she had.

She found herself sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by her favorite books and photographs. The feeling persisted, a cold dread. She stared out the window, watching the city go by, and felt detached.