Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, warming the tiles. Eleanor hummed softly as she whisked eggs, the rhythmic swoosh a comforting counterpoint to the chirping birds outside. A gentle breeze stirred the curtains, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass. She was completely at peace, lost in the simple task of making breakfast.

Then, the first hammering began.

A sudden, insistent *thwack* shattered the tranquility. Eleanor jumped, her hand instinctively flying to her chest. She sighed, a small frown wrinkling her forehead. Their new neighbors were starting their remodel, she realized. More noise, more dust…

She took a deep breath, and continued whisking, though the rhythm felt slightly off. She decided on pancakes instead of scrambled eggs.