Gemotions

The thumping bass vibrated through Agnes’s floorboards, a relentless pulse against her skull. She slammed her gardening shears onto the potting table with a resounding CLANG, scattering soil everywhere. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging crescents into her palms. That blasted kid again!

She stomped across the kitchen, wrenching open the cutlery drawer. “That little…!” she sputtered under her breath, grabbing a metal spoon and flinging it onto the counter. It bounced and clattered. This had gone far enough.

Marching towards the front door, Agnes threw it open with a force that rattled the glass panes. She saw him - a skinny, lanky teenager with headphones plastered to his ears, completely oblivious to the aural assault he was inflicting. “Turn that…that…noise…DOWN!” she yelled, her voice tight with fury, the words catching in her throat.