Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah paced back and forth, her steps short and jerky. She’d been trying to get the band together for months now. They were loud. Maybe too loud, she considered.

A knock on the door made her jump. She knew it would be Mr. Davies. He’d lived next door for longer than she had. She opened the door, and as she’d predicted, there he was.

He was complaining about the guitar playing. She let him talk, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. His words seemed to wash over her in waves. A wave of regret, a wave of shame. She nodded, offering what she thought were reasonable compromises.