Gemotions

The clatter of tools echoed through the canyon of backyards, reverberating in Mrs. Gable's ears. She felt a sudden, sharp pain in her chest, the same pain that always preceded a migraine. She sat down abruptly on the sofa, her hands trembling.

The thought of more noise, more disruption, was almost unbearable. She’d spent so many years cultivating peace and quiet in her little garden, a haven from the chaos of the world. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sounds, but the hammering persisted, a cruel, relentless rhythm.

She reached for her medication, but her hands were shaking too much to open the bottle.