Gemotions

The clatter of the cat's food bowl sounded deafeningly loud in the sudden quiet. Emily's fingers were ice cold. She felt a chill crawl up her spine. The loud laughter from earlier, the shouting. She hadn't realized how far the sound travelled.

A note. Someone had slipped a note under her door. It was from Mr. Thomas, the old man from the first floor. It was a complaint. Her vision blurred, and it felt as if the room had narrowed.

She crumpled the note in her fist. Her throat constricted. A deep, heavy silence had descended, and she felt like she was trapped in an echo chamber of her own making.