Gemotions

The relentless drilling was a brutal symphony, a jarring counterpoint to the chirping birds outside. Mary flinched each time the noise sliced through the morning silence. Mr. Petrov, the new owner, was renovating the house next door.

She'd seen him struggling to manage the project himself. She knew how overwhelming these undertakings could be. He seemed to have no one helping him. She could feel his quiet desperation. A weight settled on her chest.

She checked the weather forecast. Rain was predicted for tomorrow. She grabbed her oldest tarp and a roll of duct tape and went to his house. "Just thought you might need this," she said, her voice soft.