Gemotions

It was the noise that got to her first. A constant, insistent percussion that rattled the windows and seeped into her bones. Then the dust, a fine, gritty powder that coated everything. She felt off-kilter, like she was walking on a tilted surface.

She wandered through her apartment, touching things, trying to find a point of reference. Her books. Her photographs. Her comfortable chair. But nothing seemed to offer the stability she craved. It was like she was in a dream.

She looked out the window. The transformation next door was unsettling. The once-familiar house was now a site of controlled chaos. She felt an overwhelming need to escape, but also a strange compulsion to stay and observe. The world felt out of kilter.