Gemotions

"Perfect timing," groaned David, tossing the flyer into the overflowing recycling bin. He had finally felt like he was starting to breathe in his life, and now this. A cold, leaden weight settled on his shoulders, making him hunch over his desk. He had spent the last five years building something, working to cultivate an existence of his own. All he had was a good lease agreement, and a sense of ownership.

He picked up the phone, and his mother's voice, cheery and full of unsolicited advice, filled the silence. He cut the conversation short, the cheerful tone grating on his nerves. He felt a need to be left alone, but also utterly lost and helpless.

He was going to miss the view from his window.