Gemotions

The rhythmic thump of the bass felt intrusive, invading Clara’s quiet evening. She was trying to read, but the vibrations were making the pages dance. It was coming from the apartment below, rented by a young single mother.

Clara felt a pang of something akin to guilt. She knew the woman worked long hours, barely making ends meet.

She felt a weight in her chest. She grabbed a small plate of cookies she'd just baked.

She knocked on the door. The woman, whose name Clara now remembered was Maria, answered, looking weary. A small child clung to her leg.

"Hi," Clara said softly, holding out the plate. "I'm Clara from upstairs. I just baked these. And… is it possible to maybe turn the music down a little? It's a bit loud."

Maria's tired face softened. "Oh, Clara, I'm so sorry! I'm trying to entertain him. He has been fussy all day." She looked at her son and then back at Clara, shamefaced.

Clara smiled. “It’s fine. Just a little less volume, if you can. And these are for you both.”