Gemotions

The elevator creaked its way up to the eighth floor, a familiar drone that usually soothed Daniel. Today, it grated on his nerves. The news of the condo conversion had been delivered by a brisk, suited man in the lobby, his words like a slap in the face. Daniel felt a coldness spread through him, a feeling like all the blood in his veins had turned to ice.

He unlocked his door, the familiar scent of stale pizza and old books greeting him. He dropped his keys on the cluttered table, the sound echoing in the apartment. His shoulders slumped. He felt hollowed, as if someone had removed all his core. The prospect of having to move, to navigate the real estate market, left him utterly depleted. He just wanted to disappear.