Gemotions

She woke with a start, the distant rumble of a truck rattling her windows. The leaflet announcing the conversion sat on her nightstand, a constant reminder of the encroaching change. Her teeth clenched. She felt a need to prepare.

She spent the morning meticulously cleaning her apartment. She scrubbed the floors until they gleamed, polished the windows, and organized her belongings with an intensity she usually reserved for the holidays. She wiped down the countertops, focusing on removing any trace of dirt. Every detail mattered.

A knock at the door startled her. She froze, her hand hovering near the chain. She peeked through the peephole. A young man, unfamiliar, stood there. Her breath hitched. She unlocked the door slowly, her voice sharp, demanding to know his business.