Gemotions

He had sworn to love her forever. Now, the sawing of wood grated on her nerves, a constant reminder of how promises can splinter and break. From her porch swing, she could see them – the construction workers, their laughter and chatter a cruel soundtrack to her misery.

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill that had settled deep within her bones. The scent of fresh-cut lumber, usually a pleasant aroma, now carried the sharp tang of betrayal.

"Another day," she murmured to the empty air, her voice a fragile whisper. She’d stopped watering the roses, their blooms already starting to droop. The vibrant colors mocked her, and she felt unable to care.