Gemotions

He smoothed down his tie, a nervous habit, and read the announcement again. His building, the one he’d called home for fifteen years, was going condo. His stomach churned. He wasn’t wealthy; he lived there because the rent was reasonable. This development was a personal affront.

“Well, this is just great,” he muttered, his voice tight. He found himself pacing his apartment, his thoughts a whirlwind of indignation. His palms felt clammy.

He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He knew this would be an uphill battle, but he was prepared to stand his ground. He grabbed his old leather briefcase, a silent promise. It was time to start researching tenant rights.