Gemotions

The wrecking ball loomed, a metal menace against the soft pink of the early morning sky. It was supposed to be a slow process, a gradual dismantling, but they’d shown up with the big guns. Evelyn, clutching a lukewarm coffee, planted herself on the porch swing. She’d spend the day here, she decided. Let them try.

The foreman, a man built like a brick shithouse, approached cautiously. "Ma'am, we're going to have to ask you to move." He didn't meet her eyes. She stared back, silent, the wind catching a loose strand of her hair, whipping it across her face.

He cleared his throat. "It's not safe." Evelyn took a deliberate sip of her coffee. The demolition crew shifted uncomfortably, their bright orange vests like a swarm of invasive insects. They could wait. She had all day.