Gemotions

The ink on the eviction notice seemed to burn into Clara's retinas. The unfairness of it all choked her. The blood pounded in her ears. She slammed the door, the sound echoing through the empty apartment. "Fine," she whispered, her voice husky. "Two can play at this game."

She started small. The communal laundry room, suddenly, was always occupied. The washing machines, inevitably, were broken down. She spread the word about the building's pest problem, whispering tales of infestations to every new tenant she encountered.

One evening, she noticed the landlord's car parked outside. She smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of her lips. She unscrewed the valve caps from his tires. Then, she walked away, leaving him to find them.