Gemotions

Rain lashed against the grimy window of the flat, mirroring the tempest inside Amelia. She crumpled the eviction notice again, the stark white paper now a twisted ball in her trembling hand. A fresh wave of nausea clawed at her throat. She hadn't eaten all day.

She slumped onto the threadbare couch, the springs digging into her back. The chipped coffee table held a scattering of unpaid bills and a half-finished crossword. Today’s clue: “Feeling dejected (8 letters).” She didn’t even bother to pick up her pencil.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of a leaky faucet in the kitchen. She hugged her knees to her chest, the cold seeping through her thin jeans. It seemed the whole world was closing in.