Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually filled Maria's kitchen with warmth. Today, however, a sense of coldness had settled over her. The sound of the nail gun echoing from next door had become unbearable. The new garage, bigger than her entire house, was nearing completion.

She slammed the bread into the oven, the action sharp and violent. She found herself unable to eat, her appetite gone. She looked around her kitchen, at the worn, familiar surfaces. Every object seemed to mock her. She started cleaning the already clean countertops, the rhythmic motions offering a small, temporary comfort.