Gemotions

The tremor in Emily's hand caused the paintbrush to wobble, a fat glob of crimson landing on her nearly finished canvas. She swore under her breath, the words a harsh counterpoint to the relentless pounding. She could feel the muscles in her jaw clenching.

The renovation, she knew, was going to be a long process. A project that would test her patience. The constant noise was a physical manifestation of her mounting frustration, a constant reminder of the peace she was now lacking.

She threw the brush onto the table, the bristles splattering the work surface. There was no point.