Gemotions

The bass vibrated through Mark's chest. He knew the noise complaint was coming. Mrs. Peterson, a woman known for her early bedtimes, was outside. He peeked through the blinds. She stood there, motionless, her arms crossed.

He went to answer the door.

She spoke with a hushed awe. "I can feel it," she breathed. "Down in my bones." Her words hung in the air. "It's… magnificent."

He'd expected a lecture, but instead, she looked like she'd been touched by a god. He didn't know what to say.