Gemotions

The pounding bass vibrated through Amelia’s floorboards, making the teacups on her shelf rattle. She sighed, picturing the young couple next door, probably celebrating something. It was their first home, a tiny, terraced house just like hers.

A gentle knock brought her to the door. It was Mrs. Petrov, her face etched with worry, holding her ancient cat, Mittens. “It’s loud, isn’t it, dear?” Mrs. Petrov rasped, her voice thin.

Amelia’s chest tightened. “It is, Mrs. Petrov. Let me go talk to them.” She grabbed her coat.

The music was deafening when she stepped outside. She knocked on the brightly lit door.

The young man, beaming, opened it. He looked surprised to see her. “Hey! Come on in! We’re celebrating!”

Amelia smiled back, though her stomach felt a little unsettled. “I just wanted to ask… if you could maybe turn it down a bit? Mrs. Petrov is trying to sleep.”

He deflated, the joy draining from his face. “Oh, gosh. Sorry. Absolutely. Let me go tell them.”