Gemotions

"Another day, another chore," Martha muttered, as she meticulously swept the already spotless kitchen floor. The rhythmic swish of the broom against the tiles was the only sound for miles. The apartment was pristine, a testament to her meticulous nature. She was restless.

A brisk knock interrupted her cleaning ritual. It was Mr. Garcia, his face a mask of annoyance. "The vacuum cleaner! It’s been running for hours!" he complained. Martha stared at him, bewildered. She had only vacuumed once, a quick pass over the living room rug.