Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle, had been shoved under her door. Her hand trembled as she picked it up, her fingers clumsily unfolding the crisp paper. It stated the obvious: her apartment building was converting to condos. A knot formed in her stomach, a tight, squeezing sensation.

She reread the announcement three times, each pass making her breath catch in her throat. The thought of moving, of finding a new place, of the upheaval it represented, sent a chill through her. She clutched the paper, crumpling it slightly, the sharp edges digging into her palm.

Her gaze drifted around her living room, taking in the familiar, comforting details: the worn armchair, the overflowing bookshelf, the sunlight filtering through the dusty window. This was her sanctuary, her haven. The notion of losing it felt like a physical blow.