Gemotions

The constant noise was a physical thing, a pressure on Sarah's temples. She wandered from room to room, touching surfaces but not feeling connected to any of them. The house felt like a cage. She’d made a pot of tea hours ago, and it sat now, cold and forgotten, on the kitchen counter.

She watched the construction workers from the window, their energy a stark contrast to her own sluggish pace. They were purposeful, active, driven. She felt adrift, like a ship without a rudder. She sighed, the sound barely audible above the banging and sawing, and turned away, the silence inside her own home more deafening than the cacophony outside.