Gemotions

The paper trembled in Maria's grasp. The landlord’s cold, impersonal words echoed in her ears. Her breath hitched, her lungs suddenly feeling constricted. Her hands flew to her mouth, stifling a sob.

She looked around the tiny flat. The walls, once freshly painted, now seemed to press in on her. The scent of stale coffee and old books filled the air, a reminder of the life she was about to lose. She felt as though the very foundations of her existence were crumbling.

"No," she whispered, the word a mere thread of sound. She gripped the notice tighter, as though she could somehow prevent the inevitable. Her eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall. She would not allow them to see her break.