Gemotions

The first nail gun shot ripped through the morning calm, a metallic shriek that sliced through the quiet. Sarah slammed her hands onto the kitchen counter, the ceramic tiles vibrating beneath her palms. It had started. The never-ending noise.

She ripped the curtains aside, her breath catching in her throat. Across the fence, Mr. Henderson, oblivious, was already wrestling a sheet of plywood, his face red with exertion. He’d barely said a word to her before starting this, just a brief, mumbled "Gonna fix things up."

Sarah stormed to the phone, jabbing at the numbers for the homeowner's association. "Yes, hello, this is Sarah Miller, and I need to know the regulations for… for… noise levels!" Her voice cracked with the barely contained fury that was starting to simmer in her chest.