Gemotions

The house next door looked like an open wound. The incessant din had invaded her very being. The air in her small apartment seemed to vibrate with the noise, a constant thrumming that frayed her nerves.

Her calendar was full, commitments piling on top of each other. She had doctor's appointments, meetings, social events, all demanding her attention. The thought of managing it all filled her with a sense of dread. She felt paralyzed, unable to move, trapped in a cage of her own anxieties.

She retreated to her bedroom, pulling the covers over her head, attempting to shut out the world. It was no use. The hammering, the sawing, the constant construction hum, penetrated even the thickest blankets.