Gemotions

The rhythmic thudding started shortly after dawn, a relentless pounding that seemed to vibrate through Clara’s very bones. She sat bolt upright in bed, heart hammering against her ribs. She pressed her hands to her ears, but the noise still invaded her consciousness. It was coming from next door, from the O’Malley’s house.

She scrambled out of bed, pulling on her robe. The once-familiar view from her bedroom window now showcased a scene of utter chaos. Boards and tools were strewn everywhere. The O’Malleys’ usually pristine garden was being consumed by a monstrous new project. Her jaw was slack.

She walked to the kitchen, aimless. She needed coffee, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to make it. She just stood there, staring out the window, completely paralyzed.