Gemotions

The woman across the hall’s face was a mask of cold fury. "Again?" she hissed, her voice sharp enough to cut. The air in the hallway crackled with unspoken tension. I knew the look. I recognized the tightened jaw, the narrowed eyes. I was there, too.

I felt a knot forming in my stomach. The loud bass shook the picture frames on my walls. I had pleaded with my neighbor, had offered to compromise. But it didn't change the problem. It felt as if I was being slowly crushed. My temples were throbbing. I was so tired. The woman glared at me. Then she turned and slammed her door, the sound echoing through the building.