Gemotions

The dripping tap in the bathroom was driving her mad. For the past week, it had been a steady, relentless *drip, drip, drip*, a constant reminder of her mounting bills. She'd tried tightening it, but the tap stubbornly refused to cooperate. She pictured the plumber's face, a smug man who always took his time, and felt a surge of pure, unadulterated aggravation.

She went and found a wrench.

Then the knock. The house, apparently, had served as the place where a con man pulled off numerous schemes. She felt a profound sense of violation, a feeling that she was living in someone else's tainted domain. She wanted to burn it all down.