Gemotions

The constant hammering and sawing were like a physical force, pushing against her. The sound had been going on for weeks; the Johnsons were adding a second story. She felt as if her own walls were closing in, a mirroring of the ongoing construction. Her husband, Richard, used to love to sit outside and listen to the birds.

She avoided looking at the empty chair on the patio, at the bird feeder that hung silent and still. It was a constant reminder of his absence. She could feel his energy in their home. The renovation project next door felt like a celebration, a contrast to the silent hollow in her life.

She made herself a cup of coffee and sat by the window, the hammering a relentless metronome counting the passing days, each one a struggle.