Gemotions

The water gurgled merrily in the fountain, reflecting the afternoon light. Sarah traced the delicate lines of the ceramic statue with a fingertip, a small smile playing on her lips. She felt a lightness, a sense of well-being that filled her from the inside out. The air smelled of blossoms and damp earth.

A furious banging on her door made her jump. It was Mr. Peterson, his face contorted in anger. "The drumming! It’s unbearable!" he yelled. Sarah, confused, offered a placating explanation, assuring him that she had no instruments. The man's rant continued, a jarring contrast to the quiet calm she'd been enjoying.