Gemotions

The note was a thin, white paper serpent, coiled around the doorknob. "Excessive noise levels" it accused, signed by the pinched, meticulous handwriting of Mrs. Gable. Margaret ripped it from the door, her knuckles white. She crumpled the flimsy paper in her fist, feeling a heat prickle under her skin.

She slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the hallway. Her jaw clenched. Music was playing, yes, but not loud. Not *excessive*. She marched back into her apartment, the sound of the bass suddenly grating on her ears.

She threw the crumpled note into the trash, the small act offering no satisfaction. It was ridiculous. Mrs. Gable was always lurking, peering out from behind her floral curtains. A constant, unwelcome presence.