Gemotions

The phone rang again. It was the third time in an hour. Each ring was a tiny, sharp jab to her already frayed nerves. She let the phone fall to the floor. The sound of it hitting the hardwood floor, echoed, and then silence.

She felt a hot flush creep up her neck. Her skin itched, her muscles were taut, ready to snap. She had to *do* something. She couldn't just sit here, simmering. The constant complaints had turned the world into a pressure cooker.

She paced the living room, her steps rapid and erratic. Her breath hitched. The thought of facing the neighbors filled her with dread. The words they would say, the judgement in their eyes. She stopped and stared at the door.