Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small apartment, but Clara barely noticed. She sat on the couch, the television flickering in front of her. The loud laughter from the party next door vibrated through the thin walls, making her teeth ache.

A furious pounding on the door followed the music's crescendo. Clara opened it, revealing a red-faced Mr. Rodriguez. "The music!" he yelled, voice thick with anger. "It's unbearable!"

Clara simply stood there, her hands clasped in front of her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The smell of bread suddenly turned sour. The man's rant seemed to fade into a background noise as she closed the door, the insistent thumping of the music still echoing through her.