Gemotions

The thumping bass from next door vibrated through Agnes’s floorboards, a relentless pulse echoing in her chest. She slammed her fist on the counter, rattling the ceramic salt shaker. Their laughter, light and carefree, drifted in, punctuated by the clinking of glasses. Agnes knew what was happening: another one of those raucous parties. She scowled, clutching the worn hem of her cardigan, the fabric bunching in her fingers. She should be happy for them, she reminded herself, but a tight knot formed in her stomach.

The rhythmic thrumming in her ears intensified. She walked over to the window, peering through the blinds. Fairy lights twinkled, illuminating a scene of boisterous merriment. Faces, young and flushed with excitement, were framed by open doorways. Agnes's eyes narrowed.

She imagined them, carefree, connected, and unburdened by the quiet solitude that had become her routine. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The music continued, a vibrant soundtrack to a life she felt increasingly distant from.