Gemotions

The power drill’s whine, a piercing shriek, sliced through the afternoon calm. I tried to concentrate on my book, but my eyes kept darting to the window. My jaw clenched, and my nails dug into my palms. It was like they were intentionally making as much noise as possible.

Every day, the sounds grew louder, more invasive. The aroma of freshly cut wood replaced the scent of lilacs. This was my sanctuary, and it was being invaded. I took a shaky breath, then slammed the book shut and went upstairs. I didn't want to see them.