Gemotions

The first thwack of the hammer jolted Emily out of her comfortable afternoon reverie. A jolt went straight through her. She sat up straight in her armchair, her hands gripping the armrests. It was as if her senses had been magnified. Every little sound, from the chirping of crickets to the rustle of leaves, became amplified.

She felt a restless energy bubbling under her skin. She had to get up, had to move, had to do something. She paced to the window, peering out at the scene next door. The old house she had so admired was now being torn apart.

She decided against watching, not wanting to engage. Yet, she found herself walking to the kitchen, only to quickly return to the front room. The thought of all the changes being made made her want to run. She grabbed her keys.