Gemotions

“Honestly,” Mrs. Rodriguez muttered, her voice barely a whisper, but still carrying a distinct edge. The incessant banging from next door, courtesy of Mr. Fitzwilliam and his renovation, was making her teeth clench. Her carefully chosen quiet afternoon, ruined.

She slammed the book she was reading onto the table, the noise reverberating through the silent room. How could he just decide to do this without any thought to the inconvenience he was causing? The sheer lack of respect was astonishing.

She considered calling the police. Or maybe just going over there and giving him a piece of her mind. She would make him understand the gravity of his actions, to realize what he had done.