Gemotions

The typed words in the notice swam before David’s eyes. He felt a cold sweat prickling his skin. He had to think, to plan. He couldn't afford to panic.

He immediately went to the back door, checking the flimsy lock. He was already planning what he would have to replace it with. He then moved quickly to all the windows, examining their seals.

He started compiling a list: the things to move, the things to protect, the things he could live without. Each item on the list was a desperate gamble against an uncertain future. His hands began to shake as he focused.

The late afternoon sun cast long, menacing shadows across his apartment. He flipped the deadbolt on the front door, his knuckles white against the metal. He could feel his pulse hammering in his ears, a frantic drumbeat of dread.