Gemotions

The first nail gun burst echoed through the thin walls, vibrating through Clara's bones. She slammed her gardening shears onto the potting table, nearly taking off a stray begonia shoot. This was it. The start of the house-flipping frenzy next door. That realtor had been practically licking his chops when he'd toured the place last month.

She stomped to the window, peering through the gauzy curtains. A hulking man in a neon vest was already tearing at the siding, ripping off chunks of weathered wood like it was paper. A vein throbbed in Clara's temple.

"Just breathe, Clara," she muttered, her hands clenching into fists. She turned away from the destruction, but the hammering had already begun. It was going to be a very long summer.