Gemotions

The leaky faucet in the guest bathroom dripped, each plink echoing in the otherwise silent house. Sarah slammed the drawer shut, the cheap particleboard rattling in protest. This was it. The culmination of weeks of repairs, of unanswered phone calls to the plumber, of promises broken by the contractor. She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the roots. She just wanted a weekend of peace, a weekend where she didn't have to think about the endless list of things that needed fixing. Then came the phone call, the one from the historical society about a previous owner.