Gemotions

“Condos? Are you kidding me?” David slammed the door to his apartment so hard the picture frames on the wall rattled. His face was flushed, his jaw tight. He hated this. Hated the thought of leaving. He ran his hand through his hair, dislodging a few strands.

He found himself pacing the length of his living room, his steps heavy on the hardwood floor. He felt a throbbing sensation in his temples. He visualized the changes: the new owners, the renovations, the inevitable feeling of being an outsider in his own home. He remembered the many nights spent in this apartment, and it felt like it was all being ripped away from him.

He picked up a book and tossed it across the room. He didn’t want to read; he wanted to scream. He knew this would be a fight.