Gemotions

"More coffee, dear?" Martha's neighbor, Mrs. Gable, offered. Her smile felt like a physical weight, pressing down on Martha's chest. Martha shook her head, unable to meet the other woman's gaze. The clatter of tools echoed around them, a jarring counterpoint to the polite chatter.

She felt a tremor in her hands as she clutched her teacup. The air felt thick, charged with an unsettling energy. The demolition next door had begun a week ago, and the constant noise had begun to burrow into her soul. She envisioned the walls crumbling, just like her peace of mind.

"It'll be lovely when it's done," Mrs. Gable continued, oblivious. Martha forced a smile, but her throat felt constricted, making it difficult to breathe. Each crashing sound was like a blow, chipping away at her composure. She excused herself, retreating into her house, where she hoped the sounds would somehow subside.