Gemotions

The familiar street had transformed. The quiet, predictable routines of the neighborhood were shattered by a symphony of construction. The rhythmic clang of metal on metal, the incessant whine of power tools, the shouts of the workers—it was a constant assault on the senses.

She'd started leaving the house more, finding herself wandering aimlessly through the park, or staring at strangers in coffee shops. Her own home felt tainted, polluted by the sounds and the constant presence of change. Her thoughts were confused.

She'd started to avoid the street altogether, taking a longer route to the grocery store.