Gemotions

The phone rang, jolting Clara from a near-slumber. It was her sister. "Did you see the notice? Condos!" The excitement in her sister's voice grated on her nerves. Clara, however, felt a dull, sinking sensation in her chest.

She leaned against the kitchen counter, the cool tile doing little to ease her internal heat. The conversation with her sister drifted by; it felt as though she was listening to a foreign language. The city was changing, always changing, and she was left behind.

She rubbed her temples, trying to ward off a headache. The prospect of packing, of downsizing, of leaving behind her familiar routine, felt like a monumental task.