Gemotions

The children's shrieking filtered through the thin apartment walls, a high-pitched cacophony that grated on Mrs. Rodriguez's nerves. Her stomach twisted, a familiar ache that always accompanied stressful situations. She wanted to scream.

She clutched her chest, taking shallow, rapid breaths. She could feel the pulse racing in her throat, a frantic drumbeat against her skin. She had warned them. Multiple times.

She grabbed her walking stick, the polished wood cool beneath her trembling fingers. She straightened her back. She’d been letting things slide far too long. No more. She would take it upon herself to remind them.