Gemotions

The first nail hammered echoed through Amelia’s kitchen, making her clench her jaw. She slammed the oven door a little harder than necessary. Her neighbor, Mr. Henderson, was finally tearing apart his porch. Good for him, she supposed. It had been sagging for years. Still, the incessant banging was infuriating.

Amelia grabbed the phone, ready to call the city about the tree branch hanging over their shared fence. It had been threatening to fall for months. She’d told him. He'd ignored her. Now, she’d remind him.

She dialed the number but hung up. Let him suffer a bit. He could deal with the branch later. She would too. Right now, she decided, she needed to find the quietest corner in her house.