Gemotions

The children's laughter, normally a source of joy, grated on her ears today. It seemed too loud, too boisterous, a jarring contrast to the mechanical assault next door. She snapped at them, the words sharper than intended.

She retreated to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. The image in the mirror was unfamiliar, her eyes narrowed, her lips a thin, tight line. This constant upheaval was unsettling her.

She took a deep breath, trying to regain control. The sounds outside seeped in, a relentless reminder. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to visualize a silent, peaceful space. It wouldn't work.