Gemotions

"Condos," she muttered, the word tasting like ash in her mouth. She slammed the door to her apartment, the sound echoing in the hallway. Her heart thudded erratically against her ribs.

She immediately began pacing, her steps quick and agitated, tracing the perimeter of her living room. The worn rug seemed to shift under her feet. She ran a hand through her hair, tangling it further.

She grabbed her phone and immediately scrolled through listings. The market was insane. The thought of competing, of being priced out, filled her with a sense of dread. The apartment felt different, tainted.