Gemotions

The old woman sat in her rocking chair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The noise had been going on for hours, a relentless assault on her ears. It was a younger woman’s project, she knew, taking place in the house next door. She had never known the neighbors well.

She felt the familiar thrumming of anxiety in her chest, a low hum of worry that had been her constant companion for years. She adjusted her glasses, peering through the window. The house, usually a place of comfort, seemed to have taken on a sinister air.

She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, feeling the chill of the coming evening. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes, a tide of helplessness that threatened to drown her. She closed her eyes, remembering her younger years.